


Worth Something

by riventhorn



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Awkward First Times, Flogging, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Physical Abuse, Torture, but there's fluff too, not everything that happens is horrible, spoilers through chapter 70 of the manga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:24:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5276516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riventhorn/pseuds/riventhorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon AU where Jean is part of the 103rd Training Corps, graduates a year ahead of Eren and the rest, and joins the Military Police. Jean being Jean, he can't keep quiet about the corruption and runs afoul of his captain. Falsely accused of treason and sentenced to be executed, Jean is in prison at the same time Eren is being held there after Trost. Commander Erwin sees Jean and decides to try and bring him into the Survey Corps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Erwin didn’t like leaving Eren in the hands of the Military Police, but there was no other choice until Zackly arrived and convened the trial. 

“If this goes wrong, it could spell the end of the Survey Corps,” Levi said as they walked away from Eren’s cell. “Some of those fuckers in the government would take any excuse to disband us.”

“The risk is worth it.”

“The kid is dedicated—I’ll give him that. But retaking Maria….”

“I don’t believe I’d mentioned retaking the Wall.”

Levi snorted. “Didn’t have to. I know you started planning the mission the second you heard about Eren.” 

Erwin hid a smile and did not deny it. He had never imagined that retaking Maria could be accomplished in his lifetime. Perhaps he could lay the groundwork for it, but commanders of the Survey Corps were not known for their longevity. But now maybe there was a chance that he could find the answers he had been seeking for so long. 

As they walked down the corridor, Erwin glanced in the other cells. Most were empty, but the prisoner in one of them caught his eye, and he paused, taking a closer look. 

It was a boy, perhaps a year or so older than Eren. He was slumped on the floor, his wrists chained to the wall. The light was poor, but Erwin could tell his lip was split and there were bruises on his face. The loose shirt he wore had slipped off one shoulder, and it looked like there was some bruising there as well. Either he had been in one hell of a fight or the guards were beating him. If the latter, than he was probably in the MPs. In Erwin’s experience, soldiers showed little pity toward one of their own who they believed had betrayed them. 

The boy was staring at the ground, his eyes blank. When he became aware that Erwin was standing there, he looked up, took in Erwin’s uniform and flinched, trying to curl in on himself, pulling futilely on his wrists, which were already rubbed raw from the manacles. 

“You coming?” Levi said impatiently from up ahead, and Erwin moved to catch up with him, leaving the boy behind. 

But he did not forget about him and that evening, eating supper at a tavern with Nile, he asked about him. They had already covered personal news and then spent quite a bit of time trying to get each other to reveal what they would say in court about Eren. Erwin could pretty well guess what Nils was going to propose, given his expression any time Eren’s name was mentioned, but he didn’t want to reveal any of his own plans. So he decided to turn Nile’s attention to another matter.

“I saw another boy in prison today. I assume he’s one of yours.”

Nile had to think for a moment. “Ah, yes. I reviewed his case a few days ago. Kirstein, I believe his name is. He’s scheduled for execution at the end of the week.”

“Execution? He’s just a boy.”

“The charge was treason. It doesn’t matter how old you are if you’re plotting to overthrow the king. He had a number of heretical texts in his possession and schematics for a new type of weapon. At least, that was the evidence Konrad Haese presented at the trial.”

“Haese, huh?”

“Yes. Kirstein was posted in Stohess, and as you may remember, Haese commands all of the MP activity in that district.”

Erwin had met Haese twice before. He had considered the man arrogant and condescending. Haese had been promoted after he saved the king from an assassin at considerable risk to his own life. But saving the king did not exempt one from being an asshole. “What did Kirstein have to say for himself?”

“He claimed he had never seen the texts or weapon before and that someone had planted them in his room. He then went on to accuse Haese of running a gang of slavers who sold orphaned children to work as laborers in the mines or fields.”

Erwin raised his eyebrows. “The kid has guts at any rate. Did you believe him?”

Nile grimaced. “There have been rumors about Haese before that connected him to some sort of corruption. But Kirstein had no evidence to back up his claims. Between the word of a captain who is also a national hero versus a private with a history of disciplinary problems there really wasn’t much of a choice.” 

And there you had it—the sorry reality of the world summed up in one sentence. “Kirstein must be good to have made it into the MPs. What was he—103rd Training Corps?”

“I believe so. I glanced at his scores—top of his class in vertical maneuvering.” 

“Pity that his talents should go to waste.”

Nile leveled a stare at Erwin. “What are you suggesting?”

“Let the Survey Corps have him. Give him the chance to redeem himself.” 

“He broke the law, Erwin. Whether it’s true or not, the military court convicted him. I can’t overturn his sentence on a whim.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way, Nile. I usually lose fifty percent of new Scouts on their first mission outside the Wall.”

“So he would be exchanging the gallows for a Titan’s mouth? Fuck, Erwin, that’s cold, even for you.”

He didn’t reply, just waited.

“Haese would be pissed off about it. Although it might be good to remind him he can’t always get his way.” Nile considered for a few moments. “All right. I’ll see what I can do. But he’ll need to be kept under watch.”

Erwin smiled. “I can put him with Eren.”

“Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you? There’s no guarantee you’ll get custody of Jaeger.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, Nile,” Erwin said and leaned forward to clink their mugs together. 

*

On the morning after Eren’s trial, the MPs brought Kirstein to Erwin’s office, shoving him roughly through the door and forcing him down onto his knees. 

“You’re dismissed,” Erwin told them after accepting the key for the manacles around Kirstein’s wrists. Levi was a silent spectator, leaning against the wall. 

“Stand up,” Erwin said to Kirstein once the MPs had gone. 

He struggled to his feet, obviously in pain, his face pale and grimy. He didn’t look at Erwin, keeping his eyes trained on the floor.

“I’m Erwin Smith, commander of the Survey Corps. Has the situation been explained to you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Erwin stood up and came around his desk to unlock the manacles. Kirstein’s muscles tensed as he drew near, and Erwin could feel his hands trembling. 

“And what are your thoughts on the matter?” Erwin asked. 

A pause. “I think you just want to use me,” Kirstein said, and he glanced at Erwin, his hazel eyes fired with anger for a second before going dull again. “Like _he_ did.”

“Captain Haese?”

Silence. 

“I won’t deny that I think your abilities could be invaluable to the Survey Corps.” Erwin returned to his seat. Kirstein rubbed at the abraded skin on his wrists, eyes back on the floor. 

“What will you do when I order you on a mission outside the Wall?” Erwin asked him.

“I’ll go on it. Sir.” Kirstein’s tone made it clear he considered this a stupid question. 

“Why?”

“Because you’ll hang me if I don’t.” He shivered, although he tried to hide it, his hands curling into fists. 

Erwin considered him for a few moments. “You’ll train with the rest of the new recruits, but your freedom must remain limited, I’m afraid. When not at training or meals, you’ll be confined to your quarters. Those were the conditions of your release. Perhaps they can be relaxed after your first mission is complete.”

Kirstein did not reply. 

“Do you understand, private?” Erwin asked, more sharply.

Kirstein flinched. “Yes, sir.”

“There’s a Scout waiting in the corridor outside. Go with him, and he’ll see you get a bath and a new uniform. Tomorrow you’ll be leaving for our training base with Captain Levi here and another new recruit, Eren Jaeger.”

“Yes, sir.”

Erwin dismissed him, waiting until the door was closed to lean back in his chair with a sigh.

“What am I, a damn chaperone for teenagers now?” Levi said. 

Erwin hummed, noncommittal.

“Whatever Haese did, it fucked that kid up. You sure you want to deal with him? He could be a liability in the field.”

“I’m sure,” Erwin said, thinking of the fierceness that had flamed to life in Kirstein for a few moments before guttering back out.


	2. Chapter 2

Eren watched as Jean slowly leveraged himself up into his saddle. Bruised or cracked ribs, probably. Couple that with the bruises on his face and the abrasions on his wrists, and Jean looked very much the worse for wear. 

They had been introduced by Levi ten minutes ago, as they prepared to leave for the old castle that served as the disused headquarters of the Survey Corps. 

“Jaeger, this is Jean Kirstein, formerly of the MPs. Kirstein, this is Eren Jaeger.” Levi had regarded both of them with a flat expression. “Jaeger already knows the score, but the same goes for you, Kirstein. I won’t hesitate to put you down if I have to.”

Jean stared at the ground and muttered a “yes, sir.” 

Eren wondered what Jean had done to be deemed a threat by the MPs and how he had gotten hurt so badly. But no one said anything else, and when Jean started struggling to get into the saddle, and Eren offered him a hand, Jean shied away, fear flickering over his face. 

“I don’t need help,” he said.

That answered the question of whether Jean had heard _his_ story or not. Eren supposed he should be used to that reaction by now, but it still hurt. 

“Fine.” He stomped back over to his own horse and watched somewhat vindictively as Jean painfully mounted his own. 

At the castle, Levi put everyone to work cleaning, and Eren found out a bit more about both their captain and Jean from Petra. 

“Jean was scheduled for execution for treason,” she said. “But the commander got him a reprieve in exchange for fighting with us.” 

“Why?” Eren asked. Jean was maybe a year or two older than he was—he couldn’t imagine how a teenager could be considered a threat to the king. Then he looked down at his own hands, curling them into fists. Well, perhaps he could imagine it. But there was no way Jean could turn into a Titan too.

Petra shrugged. “He was top of his class in vertical maneuvering. The commander likes to make use of any resource he can.”

At supper, Jean sat at one end of the table, hunched over his food. Everyone else in Squad Levi ignored him, discussing the planned operation, the chances for retaking Maria, and Eren’s abilities. But Eren could tell Jean was listening. 

“What happens when you become a Titan, Eren?” Eld asked.

“I don’t really know,” he answered slowly. “I lose myself in it and can’t remember very clearly afterwards what happened.”

“And so we’re just supposed to pin all our hopes on you?” Jean said suddenly, his voice loud. “Fuck that.”

Eren bristled. “I may not have full control yet, but I’m going to learn.”

“Oh, yeah? And who’s going to protect you while you’re ‘learning’? Who’s going to get dragged along on this mission? _We_ are.” Jean’s eyes glittered as he glared at Eren.

“We _can_ retake Maria.” Eren glared back. “And what do you know? You weren’t even _at_ Trost.”

“No, but I know a shitty idea when I hear it.”

“It’s not your job to comment on the commander’s strategy,” Levi interrupted. “You follow orders. That’s it.”

Jean went silent, dropping his eyes to his empty bowl. 

Gunther stood up, fishing a ring of keys out of his pocket. “Come on, Kirstein. Let’s lock you up for the night.”

For a moment, Eren thought Jean was going to protest. His fingers went white where they gripped the edge of the table, and he pressed his lips into a narrow line. But then he stood up and followed after Gunther. 

“You go too, Jaeger,” Levi ordered. “Gunther will show you your room in the basement.”

“Yes, sir.” Eren stood and hurried after the other two. Jean’s eyes flicked toward him as he caught up.

“You aren’t going to put me next to him, are you?” Jean asked.

“Relax,” Gunther said. “You’ll be up on the second floor.”

“And I wouldn’t transform in the night and squash you anyways,” Eren added. 

“You just said you couldn’t control it,” Jean snapped back.

Eren shoved him, unable to think up a verbal retort.

Jean shoved back. Eren gave him a harder push, and Jean winced, but was coming back at him, fist raised, when Gunther grabbed both of their collars and hauled them apart. 

“That’s enough, or I’ll have you walk sentry beats all night.”

They subsided, glowering. Eren was thinking how glad he was Jean hadn’t been in his year in the training corps. If one evening in Jean’s company was this annoying, imagine what three years would have been like. 

When they got to the room Jean was going to be sleeping in, Jean grew pale again and hesitated on the threshold. 

“In, Kirstein,” Gunther said. 

Jean stepped through the door, glancing nervously at Gunther, and then looking at Eren. For a second, Eren caught a desperation in Jean’s eyes, as though he was pleading with Eren for help with whatever had him so scared. But then Jean faced forward again, walking with stiff legs toward the narrow bed.

Gunther waited until he had his candle lit and then shut the door and locked it. 

The next few days settled into a pattern of sorts. Gunther or Eld or Petra would come and get Eren in the morning. Although they didn’t lock him in, no one wanted him roaming about by himself either. Then they would go and fetch Jean before going to breakfast. Eren usually spent his day being poked by Hanji and experimenting with his Titan form. After that first disastrous shifting when Eld, Gunther, Petra, and Oluo had almost skewered him, he was getting better at controlling it. Then there might be some 3DMG practice before it was time for supper. Jean was still too beat up to handle the 3DMG, and every time Eren caught sight of him during the day, Jean was usually engaged in some menial task Levi had set him, moving slowly, his head down. 

After that first night, he hardly ever spoke up again either, keeping to himself and doing whatever he was ordered. 

For some reason, this disturbed Eren. It shouldn’t have, because Jean had proven to be an annoying jerk when he opened his mouth, and yet this silent, hollow Jean seemed somehow worse. Eren felt a bit sorry for him, to be honest, especially because Jean still seemed so afraid every night when he got locked into his room. Eren was also missing Mikasa and Armin. Although the other members of Squad Levi no longer regarded him with veiled hostility, they were all much older than him. But Jean was his own age, or near enough. It would be nice if they could exchange a friendly word or two. 

So one day he deliberately sat close to Jean at supper. Jean looked at him, clearly wondering what Eren was doing.

“Did you do it?” Eren asked. “Whatever it was they accused you of—the reason you were in jail?”

Jean’s face went blank. “No. I didn’t.”

Eren nodded. “Okay.”

Jean blinked, surprised. “You believe me?”

“The MPs wanted to dissect me. I don’t have any problem believing they’d accuse you of something you didn’t do.”

Jean relaxed a little. “Yeah. That sounds like them.” 

“Why did you join them in the first place? Didn’t you want to fight?”

Jean grew tense again. “No.”

“But you had to have been at the top of your class. Why bother learning how to kill Titans if you’re never going to do it?” He didn’t mean it to sound accusing, but Jean became defensive.

“Fuck you. You think you’re so damn special, don’t you?”

Eren started to yell back at him, but then forced himself to stop. He hadn’t wanted to make Jean angry. “I’m not special. Just…if I can help us with these powers, then I’m going to do it.”

“You want to go outside the Wall. You’re like—vibrating with excitement.” Jean gave him a disgusted look.

“I don’t like being in a cage.”

Jean fell silent at that, his eyes going distant, remembering something. 

“Did the MPs do that to you?” Eren asked after a moment, touching his own face at the place where the fading bruises were on Jean. 

Jean didn’t reply at first. When he did speak, his voice quavered. “The guards would…come into my cell and…hold me down while they hit me.” He glared at Eren then, as though he expected him to laugh or call him weak.

Eren was beginning to see why Jean was afraid of being locked into his room. “You know none of them would do that to you, right? Eld, Gunther, Levi—”

“He hit _you_ ,” Jean protested quietly, shooting a nervous glance up at the head of the table where Levi was sitting. 

“He had to do it. He and Commander Erwin apologized about it afterwards.”

Jean was silent for a while. “Why do you trust them?” he finally asked. “Commander Erwin—he’s going to use you in whatever plan he’s concocting to retake the Wall. It’ll probably get you killed.”

Eren frowned, puzzled. “But—I told you—I want to retake the Wall. I want to fight back and reclaim everything they’ve stolen from us. That’s what the Commander wants too.”

Jean stared at him and then he laughed, a hollow, humorless noise. “You really believe you have a chance. Fuck.”

“We won at Trost.”

“And how many died, huh? I heard it was hundreds. Hundreds of people.”

“More would have died if we hadn’t fought back.”

“It’s different from going outside the Wall, though. Out there…” Jean shivered and then he laughed again, that awful, broken sound. “I joined the Military Police to get away from the monsters. It’s so fucking ironic. So fucking ironic.” 

Eren didn’t know how to reply, so he put a cautious hand on Jean’s shoulder, pleased when Jean didn’t shrug him off. 

In the morning, Eld came to get him a little earlier than usual, and Jean was still getting dressed when they opened his door. Eren had a momentary glimpse of Jean’s lean, muscled back and the barely-healed scars from a whip that stood out starkly against his pale skin. Then Jean was tugging his shirt on, flushing with shame. 

Eren looked away and pretended he hadn’t noticed. 

Perhaps that was why Jean was pricklier than ever that day, as though their conversation the night before had never happened. Hanji was off meeting with Commander Erwin, and so Levi had set Eren and Jean to mucking out the stables. They got into an argument over who would do what, and before Eren knew it, they were shouting at each other. Then Jean shoved him in the back, and his temper boiled over, and he really started going all out. Compared to Annie or Reiner, Jean sucked at hand to hand combat, and in less than a minute Eren had him pinned on the floor, one hand gripping Jean’s hair, and the other drawn back into a fist. 

And just like that, Jean went limp and stared up at him, eyes bright with tears of anger and probably pain. Eren knew with sickening certainty that Jean would lay there and let Eren hit him because he’d been conditioned into accepting it, because every time in the past that Jean had tried to fight back, he’d ended up beaten and hurt and humiliated.

Eren dropped his arm and slid off Jean, pushing himself backwards and putting some distance between them. “Jean,” he said and had to stop and clear his throat when his voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Jean crawled over to the wall and huddled there, knees drawn up against his chest. “I know I’m weak,” he said after a moment.

“You’re not. You’re—”

“I _am_.” A tear slid down his cheek, and he wiped it away, turning his face from Eren. “I am, but I never pretended any differently. I never wanted to fight Titans. But that doesn’t mean that I’m just a—just a body that people can use however they want.”

“Whatever the MPs did—”

“It’s not just them!” Jean glared at him, tears now spilling freely down his face. “Why do you think Commander Erwin stopped them from hanging me? Because he thought I’d be more use dying trying to fight a Titan than swinging on the end of a rope. That’s why the MPs gave me up. Because they knew it was only delaying my execution.” 

Eren swallowed. “That’s not true, it—”

“It _is_ true! And I didn’t even do anything wrong.” Jean hid his face in his hands, digging his fingers into his hair. “When I was in that cell, and I knew I was going to die—I was so scared. But this is—this is _worse_. Knowing—knowing what’s coming—and if I don’t go outside the Wall, they’ll send me back to that cell.” 

Jean was wheezing, his breathing too fast, panicked and shallow. Eren scrambled over to him, kneeling at his side and grabbing Jean’s hands, trying to pry them out of his hair. “Breathe. Come on, Jean. Breathe. It’ll be all right. I swear. You aren’t going to die. Come on. Calm down.” 

Jean managed a few deep, shuddering breaths, and he gripped Eren’s hands, hard enough to hurt. 

“It’ll be all right,” Eren repeated. “And I know that’s not why Commander Erwin saved you. It’s because he knows that you can help us win against them. Because he knows you aren’t weak. He believed in me, when everyone else was so scared. And he has the same faith in you.”

But Jean shook his head. “No.” He repeated it again, his voice hoarse, “No.”

Eren couldn’t think of anything else to say that would convince Jean, so he let Jean keep holding his hands, kneeling beside him on the cold floor while the shadows lengthened across the yard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can probably tell, this entire AU is basically an excuse to write hurt!Jean.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in the tags, but there are brief references to attempted rape in this chapter. And a few of Jean's lines were lifted from the manga.

Jean didn’t know how to behave around Eren the next morning. He had completely fallen apart in front of him. His face started getting hot with embarrassment whenever he thought about it. No matter what Eren said, Jean knew he didn’t hold any respect for people who joined the MPs and tried to hide in the interior, like Jean had done. Jean’s…breakdown, for lack of a better word, must have confirmed Eren’s opinion of him as weak and foolish.

It wasn’t as though he was trying to deny that. If he had been stronger…

Jean was never sure how to finish that sentence. Sometimes he felt that if he had been stronger, he would have been able to do what Haese wanted, and he would still be an MP, perhaps promoted to a sergeant by now. Other times he felt that if he had been stronger, he would have kicked Haese’s fucking teeth in. And he was sure that if he was stronger, he wouldn’t be so shattered over what had happened.

Look at Eren. He’d heard how Eren’s arm and leg had been bitten off, how he’d been swallowed by a Titan. He’d heard about how Levi had beaten Eren in front of the entire courtroom. And yet Eren wasn’t cowering in a corner but running around, raging about how he was going to kill Titans and couldn’t wait to get outside the Wall. 

Slowly, he buttoned his vest and then leaned down to pull on his boots. His ribs didn’t hurt so much now, and it was easier to breath and move. Soon he would be well enough to handle the 3DMG gear. He hadn’t used it in almost a year, but he was sure it would come back to him. The maneuvering had become second nature to him during training.

In many ways, he hated that he was so good at it. He’d practiced and pushed himself so he would be at the top of his class and assured of a spot with the MPs. And then he ended up in Haese’s hands, and now Commander Erwin’s.

Eren might trust the Commander, but Jean didn’t—couldn’t. When they had met, Erwin made no bones about the fact that he would be sending Jean outside the Wall, and that he expected him to obey every order he received. He didn’t think Erwin would ask the same things of him that Haese had—he prayed not, anyway, shuddering at the thought—but the end result would be the same. He would be hurt or killed, nothing more than a tool to be used by men who wanted their own power and glory and pleasure. That had to be what Erwin wanted, after all. Retaking Wall Maria would make him a hero overnight, second only to the king in the respect he would command.

But Jean didn’t have a choice. No, that wasn’t true. He did have choices, but whichever one he picked would lead to his death. If he refused to follow Erwin’s orders, he would be sent back to the gallows to hang as a traitor. It had been the same with Haese. He could choose between servicing him or refusing and facing Haese’s ire. 

He’d chosen the latter, and Haese made sure he suffered for it. He had his lackeys drag Jean out of bed in the middle of the night and force him to stand watch in the cold with no shoes or jacket as punishment for supposed “dereliction of duty.” He assigned Jean to the most tedious, boring tasks. 

It had been while Jean was scrubbing the latrines that he saw the huddle of small, ragged children being herded into a stable. He crept closer to see what was going on and watched as they were shoved into a cart driven by two men, one of whom handed the three MPs who had brought the kids a heavy purse of coins. He knew one of MPs well—he had been there the day Haese shoved him onto his knees and told him to put his mouth to good use. If that man was involved, Haese knew what was going on here. In fact, he was probably the ringleader of the whole operation. Jean wasn’t entirely sure where they were taking the kids, but it couldn’t be to a good place.

He should have minded his own business. He should have let it go. Worse things happened every day, after all. The government had sacrificed thousands in that hopeless attempt to retake Maria. 

But a part of him couldn’t let that bastard Haese get away with it. So he snuck into the captain’s office to look for hard evidence, as he knew Haese’s superiors would never believe his word alone. Haese caught him there and had him arrested on charges of treason. Before Jean was hauled off for the farce of a trial, Haese tied him to the post in the parade ground and had him flogged. 

Something broke in Jean then. He remembered thinking to himself as blood trickled down his back, agony throbbing through him at every breath, _I was chasing a dream. I should’ve known better. This is reality._

So yeah…Jean wasn’t buying much of what Eren said. 

But still, he felt a sharp stab of relief when Eren gave him an awkward smile at breakfast and didn’t say one word about his crying fit the day before. 

He was just starting to relax enough to eat the sticky oatmeal, when Eren said, “Captain Levi, I think Jean should come and watch while I practice shifting into a Titan.”

Jean choked. “W-what?”

Levi raised an eyebrow.

“Jean’s never seen a Titan before,” Eren continued, not even looking at him. “The first time you see a Titan it can be—shocking, overwhelming. If he sees me now, it will make it easier for him once we’re outside the Wall. He’ll be ready to go on the offensive immediately.”

“Wait a minute,” Jean began, but Levi said, “A good idea. Kirstein, you’ll go with Eren and Hanji this morning.”

“Don’t worry,” Eren said. “I won’t eat you.”

“I’m not _scared_ of you.”

“If you faint, you owe me your piece of fruit at supper.” Eren grinned.

“I will not faint!”

But when he was standing next to Hanji, watching as a powerful flash of light exploded from where Eren stood, his heart pounded and his legs shook. He gaped up—and up—and up. Fuck, Eren was huge. And the Colossal Titan had been even bigger than this. 

Eren turned toward them, and Jean yelped and started backward, the movement involuntary. 

“Eren moves faster than most Titans,” Moblit said while Hanji started yelling instructions at Eren. “But you should still never let your guard down. An abnormal can show up at any time. There’s no telling what those things will do.”

Jean swallowed against a dry throat, still staring up at Eren.

“Once the other recruits get here, you’ll spend plenty of time training so you’re as ready to fight them as you can be,” Moblit added, getting a look at the panic-stricken expression on Jean’s face. “Commander Erwin has developed a strategy for moving swiftly through Titan territory without having to engage too many.”

“Have you killed any?” Jean asked.

“One kill and five assists. You never really get used to it, but once you’ve seen one go down and know it can be done…it gets a little easier.”

_If you live that long_ , he thought, but said aloud, “Eren kills them too?”

“He did in Trost. The Titans try to attack him too—they must be able to sense he’s not one of them somehow.” Moblit shook his head. “It’s still hard to believe someone like Eren even exists.”

“But he can’t take on every Titan outside the Walls.”

“No. He’s powerful but not that powerful.”

Jean watched Eren stomp around, feeling with a painful intensity how small and insignificant he really was. His heart finally slowed down, and when Eren stopped and started to transform back, his Titan form slumping on the ground, he even edged closer. 

But panic filled him again when Hanji pulled Eren out of the billowing steam. He was unconscious, limp in Hanji’s arms. 

“Eren!” He ran to them. “What happened? Is he all right? Is he hurt?” 

“He’ll be fine,” Hanji assured him. “This always happens. The shift takes a lot out of him. One day I’d like to try leaving him in it for several hours. Would he still be able to remerge? Would he bond more fully to the Titan?” Hanji peered at Eren, eyes wide behind their glasses.

“You can’t do that.” He reached for Eren, not liking the gleam in Hanji’s eye at all. “Give him to me.” 

Hanji surrendered Eren without protest and went to poke and prod at the disintegrating Titan form. Jean sank onto his knees, Eren a warm and heavy weight in his arms. He watched Eren’s still face carefully. If something happened to Eren, he would be all alone again. Yes, Eren was annoying much of the time and seriously needed to reexamine his priorities, but Eren had still been the first person to touch him gently since the last time Jean saw his mother. He trusted Eren not to hurt him. 

A few minutes later, Eren stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He looked confused to find Jean holding him, and blinked sleepily. “It’s you.”

“Yeah. I didn’t faint.”

Eren sat up, stretching his arms and patting his face, as though to make sure it was all there. Jean let him go and scooted a bit farther away, suddenly feeling a little weird and embarrassed. He’d been clutching Eren like a mother hen or a blushing schoolgirl with a crush. 

“What did you think?” Eren asked.

He shrugged. “Is it weird not to have a dick?”

Eren spluttered and turned red. “I’m not thinking about _that_ when I’m a Titan.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Mostly…killing things.”

“Oh.” Jean cleared his throat, looking warily at Eren. “By things do you mean Titans?”

Eren nodded.

“Well, just so long as it isn’t humans.”

Eren poked his toe into the dirt, scuffing out a shallow hole. “Titans ate my mother when Wall Maria fell. I swore…I swore I would kill them—drive them out.”

The tone of Eren’s voice made him a little uneasy. He sounded so dark and intense. Jean tried to imagine what it would be like to watch his parents die in front of him. 

“Thank you,” he blurted.

“Huh?” Eren frowned, looking up. 

“For what you did at Trost,” he explained. “My parents would be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

“Oh. I—I did my best. I wasn’t really aware of myself at the time or things might have gone smoother.” Eren faltered, hugging his knees against his chest. “People died. If I’d been quicker in blocking the gate, maybe they’d still be alive. One of them was a cadet in our squad—Marco. You’d have liked him, I think.”

Marco. Jean turned the name over in his mind, another person whose life had been cut too short. “Even if you made a mistake, you still did it in the end. And my parents are still alive, and a lot of other people too.”

Eren turned his head to the side, resting it on his knees and looking at him again. “Do you miss them—your parents?”

He did miss them, especially his mother, but it seemed childish to admit it. “My mom can be so annoying. She would never give me any space, always telling me to do this or that, always scolding me for stupid things.” 

“I miss my mom,” Eren said, his eyes far away. “I don’t know what she’d think of all this, though.” He waved a hand at the fast-disappearing remains of his Titan body.

“She’d probably be proud. That’s what my mom would be. She always thought I did wonderfully at everything I tried, even if I was awful in reality.” He checked Eren’s face but didn’t see any sign that Eren was laughing at him.

“Does she know you’re here?”

“Yeah. I wrote her a letter, explaining.”

“Couldn’t she come see you back in Trost? I’m sure Commander Erwin would have allowed it.”

“I…didn’t want her to see me like that.” His breath snagged in his throat. “You saw how I looked. She would have been so horrified.”

“You feel all right now, though, right?”

“Yeah. Except for being scared out of my mind whenever I think about going outside the Wall.”

“But now you know what a Titan looks like.”

“Not sure if that helped or made it worse.” He knew Eren wanted to make things better, but he couldn’t help being honest. 

Eren’s face did fall a little. “Petra said that once the other recruits arrive, we’ll spend a long time training before going on a mission. You’ll be ready once the time comes. And I’ll be there—and my friends, Armin and Mikasa, they were planning to join the Survey Corps too. You won’t be alone in this, Jean.”

“Unlike them, I’m not exactly a recruit, though, am I?” Jean pointed out, the bitterness in him welling to the surface.

"Maybe not, but this is important. I—I think it _is_ worth risking your life for.”

“I’ll decide that for myself, thanks. I’m not going to use your personal vendetta as a reason for doing things.”

Eren scowled. “Fine, then.” He started to get up, but Jean flung out a hand and grabbed his sleeve. 

“Wait.” He didn’t want Eren to storm off. All his life, he had said what he thought and never bothered with how it would make other people feel. “Look, I…appreciate your trying to help me. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

Sighing, Eren sat back down. “I know. I’m—too sensitive about it all, I guess.” His voice got smaller and quieter. “It’s just sometimes I worry all of this will have been for nothing.”

Jean looked at him. Eren had been hurt, jailed, and almost killed by his fellow humans too. It was hard to think that your suffering didn’t even have a purpose to it. 

“I can’t lie and say that it won’t have been for nothing,” he said. “I don’t know that.”

“None of us do, I suppose.” Eren propped himself on his elbows, looking up at the sky. “But I can’t let that make me give up.” His expression grew fierce. “Not ever.”

He admired Eren’s passion, Jean admitted to himself, as cloud shadows flickered over the ground and the sun shone fitfully, washing them in a brief warmth. He had never devoted his faith and strength so wholeheartedly to any cause, but it must be nice in some ways, like having a constant flame within yourself even in your darkest hours. And yet it frightened him a little too because he knew how easy it would be to surrender all reason to it. Like the Wallists. He wasn’t sure yet which side the Survey Corps fell on. 

But he did know he found Eren’s strength of will comforting. And wished he could be that strong too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update pace. That probably will not change, however I do have the rest of the story plotted out, so I know where it's headed. There will probably be about seven more chapters.


	4. Chapter 4

“You really flipped over and hit the ground your first time on the 3DMG?” 

“I didn’t tell you so you could laugh at me,” Eren said, scowling at Jean’s grin. He’d told him to try and make Jean feel a bit better about his first time back in the gear straps after so long away. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Jean said, looking anything but. “Really, though, why did they let you stay? Shouldn’t you be off tilling a field somewhere?”

Eren frowned harder. “I improved. Obviously. And you might not be laughing so hard in a second.”

Jean adjusted his straps, running his fingers underneath and letting them snap back against his body. “You’re about to watch a master at work, Jaeger. I was top of my class, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eren crossed his arms over his chest and looked pointedly at the tall walls and sloping roofs of the castle. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Jean grinned again, sprang into a run, and fired his cables at a point high up on the wall in front of them. Swooping into the air, he executed a sharp turn and then flipped, landing on the gable of a roof.

Eren blinked. Jean really was good. Not as good as Mikasa, but more than capable of holding his own.

“You just going to stand there?” Jean yelled down at him, and Eren jolted forward, propelling himself upward with the familiar hiss and rattle of the maneuvering gear. 

“Race you to the top!” he shouted at Jean, swinging past him, and Jean followed with an outraged shout.

He caught up easily, and then Eren’s focus narrowed down to the gaps between battlements, the painful scrape of a stone on his leg when he took a corner too fast, and Jean’s brown-coated figure, always visible in his peripheral vision.

Jean pulled ahead of him with a triumphant cry and landed on the uppermost tower, his body silhouetted against the sun.

Eren clattered to a halt next to him a few seconds later. 

“I won,” Jean said, but he was smiling, exhilarated and happy, his windswept hair sticking up in all directions. Eren had never seen Jean’s smile, and he found himself grinning back, not caring about the lost race.

“Okay, I admit it, you’re not half bad,” he allowed. “Wait till you see my friend Mikasa, though. She’s amazing.”

Jean’s eyes widened a little, and his smile dimmed. “Oh, Mikasa, huh?”

“Levi said the new recruits are supposed to arrive tomorrow. It’ll be good to see her again. And Armin too.” Eren sat down, letting his legs dangle over the edge.

“Armin?”

“Armin has been with Mikasa and me since we were all growing up together in Shiganshina. He’s really smart. One day we’re going to explore the world outside the Walls together. When the Titans are gone.” 

“Oh, so he’s crazy too,” Jean said, but he sounded sad instead of angry or like he was teasing. Eren studied his expression, but Jean was staring out over the land, looking far into the distance where the line of Wall Rose rimmed the horizon like a dark ribbon. 

“You’ll like them,” Eren said, wanting to see Jean’s smile again. “Plus it won’t be just us stuck here cleaning and polishing everything to Levi’s satisfaction.”

Jean didn’t say anything. Maybe he hadn’t been ready for the 3DMG yet after all. Maybe he was in pain and trying to hide it.

“Are your ribs okay?” Eren started to reach toward him, but Jean jerked away.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. “I told you I was fine.” 

“Well don’t bite my head off. I was only asking.”

“I’m going to practice some more,” Jean said. “Don’t get in my way.”

He swung off before Eren could reply. Deciding that Jean could be a jerk by himself for a while, Eren descended and went to help Oluo in the kitchen with supper. He was all set to give Jean the cold shoulder that evening too, but Jean seemed contrite at the supper table, letting Eren take the bigger slice of bread without complaining and asking if any of Eren’s other friends from the 104th had joined the Scouts.

“I don’t know. Several of them were in the top ten, so they could have joined the MPs if they wanted.”

Jean stiffened at the mention of the MPs, and Eren hastily changed the subject to something innocuous. 

The rest of the Survey Corps arrived around noon the next day, Commander Erwin at their head, and the recruits clustered in the middle. Eren dashed down into the courtyard as soon as they appeared down the road, peering anxiously for the sight of bright blond hair or a red scarf. Jean followed him outside, but stayed near the shadow of the doors. 

“Eren!” It was Mikasa, swinging down from her horse and dashing over to him. “Are you all right? They haven’t hurt you have they?”

“No, I’m fine,” he assured her, grinning and then reaching out to pluck Armin from the swirling mass of soldiers and horses. 

“Eren,” Armin said with a smile, leaning against him for a quick hug. “Look who we’ve brought with us.”

He looked up past them. Reiner was there, and Bertolt too. And Connie and Sasha. “You all joined the Survey Corps? All of you but Annie?”

Connie nodded. “I still can’t quite believe it, but yeah. Here we are.”

“You still turning into a Titan, Eren?” Reiner asked.

“Yep. I’m getting better at controlling it too.” 

“Have you found out what causes it to happen?” Armin asked. “Is there a certain trigger? Do you turn into the full Titan or only the skeleton of one?”

“I’ll tell you everything later,” Eren promised. “For now, you should get settled in your quarters. Oh, and there’s someone I want to introduce to you. Jean—” He turned, but the spot next to the door was empty, and Jean was nowhere in sight. “Huh. Well, I’ll find him later. Come on—grab your stuff, and I’ll show you to the barracks.”

“This is the old Survey Corps headquarters, right?” Armin asked as they walked.

“Yeah. Eld—he’s one of the scouts in Squad Levi—told me that Erwin didn’t like it because it was too far from the Wall. But it’s been perfect for me to work on my shifting.”

Mikasa frowned. “Levi—he’s the one who hurt you.”

“He’s not so bad,” Eren said hastily. “I mean, he has made Jean and me clean this whole place from top to bottom, but he protected me when the others got nervous about my ability to shift, and he hasn’t kept Jean locked up all the time, either.”

Armin turned curious eyes on him. “Why would he have to be locked up?” 

Eren hesitated. Jean struck him as a very private person, someone who wouldn’t want all the details of his experience with the MPs discussed with people he didn’t know. On the other hand, he didn’t think Jean would want to explain things himself. So he ended up telling Armin and the others an abbreviated version, leaving out all of the abuse Jean had suffered—some of which Eren knew about, and some he could only guess at. 

“If he’s your friend, then I’m sure he’s trustworthy,” Connie declared when Eren finished. 

His words made Eren pause, startled. Was Jean his friend? Unbidden, the memory of Jean’s smile returned to him, and the sensation of Jean’s desperate, sweaty palms clasped in his own. He hadn’t been thinking of Jean as a friend, exactly, but of course he was. Unconsciously he had slotted Jean into a place next to Armin, Mikasa, Hannes, Annie, Sasha, and the others. 

“I’ll introduce you to him at supper,” he said, hoping that Jean wouldn’t be too abrasive at first, especially not with Armin. 

But at supper, Jean was not there. Eren waited, growing increasingly impatient, and finally tracked down Petra after he finished eating to ask if she knew where he was.

“Locked in his room, I think,” she said. “Now that the Commander is here, and the rest of the Corps, we need to be careful to abide by the rules the Military Police set for Jean’s release. If he isn’t training, he has to be confined.”

“That’s stupid,” Eren protested, and Petra shrugged in silent agreement. “Is there anything to stop me from visiting him?”

“I don’t think that would be a problem. In fact, you could bring him some supper. Probably Eld hasn’t gotten around to bringing him anything yet.”

So Eren rounded up Armin and Mikasa, put together a tray, got the key from Eld, and set off for Jean’s room.

“There’s no point in keeping him locked up,” he said to them. “What’s he going to do? He’s only a year older than us. He’s not going to bring down the kingdom or something if he eats in the hall with the rest of us.” 

“The MPs probably meant it as a reminder that Jean isn’t free—he’s only been pardoned on the condition that he fight for the Survey Corps,” Armin said.

“Don’t say that to him,” Eren cautioned as they stopped in front of Jean’s door. “Try not to bring up the MPs at all in fact. He’s still… I mean, let’s not upset him.”

Armin and Mikasa nodded, waiting as Eren knocked. “It’s me, Jean,” he called. “I brought you some supper.”

There was no reply from inside, but Eren handed the tray to Mikasa to hold while he unlocked the door. Jean was standing by the window, arms crossed over his chest.

“These are my friends, Armin and Mikasa—the ones I told you about,” Eren said to him as they entered. 

“Hello, Jean,” Armin said, smiling. 

Mikasa held out the tray of food. 

Jean stared at her for a moment and then hurried forward to take the tray. “H-hello,” he stammered. “You have really beautiful hair.”

“Thank you,” Mikasa said, drifting back over to Eren’s side.

“Don’t be weird, Jean,” Eren said. “And you could say hello to me and Armin too, you know.”

Jean frowned at him. “I’m not weird.” He looked at Armin. “Hi. You’re the one who wants to go outside the Wall and explore, aren’t you?”

“Um, yes,” Armin said, glancing at Eren with an unreadable expression on his face.

Jean set his food down on the small table and sat down in the one chair. He picked up a fork and then paused, seemingly surprised that all three of them were still there. 

Eren heaved a sigh and sat down on Jean’s bed. Armin and Mikasa went round to the other side.

“You’re…staying, then?” Jean asked.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t we? You’re stuck here, aren’t you?” Eren reached out with his toe and nudged Jean’s leg. “And you never said hello to me.”

“ _Hello_ , Eren.” Jean rolled his eyes and took a bite. Then he looked down at his bread and over at Mikasa. “Would you like some?” he offered, breaking the bread in two. “Mikasa, right?”

“No, thank you,” Mikasa said. “We already ate.”

“I brought that for you,” Eren told him, irritated. “So you didn’t starve.”

“Where are you from, Jean?” Armin asked, and Jean broke off the glare he was giving Eren to glance in Armin’s direction.

“Trost.”

“Oh.” Armin cleared his throat. “I—I hope your family is…”

“My parents are alive.” 

"Good, that's...good." Armin fell silent and no one else spoke. Jean ate a few bites, chewing and swallowing, not looking at them. 

“Have any of you ever met a Scout called Hark Olufs?” Jean asked suddenly. 

Mikasa and Armin shook their heads. “I don’t recall him,” Armin said. “But then, we haven’t been with the Survey Corps that long.”

“He was in my training group,” Jean explained. “He joined the Survey Corps. I wondered if…well, if he was still alive.”

Another uncomfortable silence fell. 

“Why do we never have anything good to talk about?” Eren muttered. 

Jean clutched the fork in his hand. “It doesn’t matter. I—I’m still glad you came,” he stammered. “And that you introduced me to your friends.” 

_Especially Mikasa_ , Eren thought, and he didn’t know what to make of the hot, angry feeling that accompanied it. Mikasa was pretty, after all. He recognized that, even though she was basically his sister in every way that counted. There was no reason why Jean couldn’t be attracted to her. 

“It was nice to meet you too, Jean,” Armin said. Mikasa smoothed out the ends of her scarf. 

“Guess we should probably go,” Eren said, nodding at Jean’s empty tray. “We can take that back.”

He was almost out the door when Jean grabbed his sleeve. 

“We’ll train together tomorrow, right?” Jean asked him. 

“Yeah. Why?”

“Just asking.” Jean shrugged, letting go. 

“Okay. Well…good night.”

He shut the door and locked it, but he felt that Jean was standing right on the other side, pressed against the wood. It was silly—Jean was probably getting into bed, but he still lingered a moment, fingers on the latch, until Mikasa called out to him. 

“Is everything all right?” Armin asked when he caught up.

“I don’t like leaving him alone,” Eren admitted. “Some bad things happened to him, and he gets scared by himself. Don’t tell him I said that though. He’d be furious.”

“It’s like after Shiganshina,” Mikasa said. “When we would all stay together at night.”

Eren remembered that—curling up under whatever blankets they had managed to scrounge, hugging Armin in his arms while Mikasa put hers around their shoulders. It had been warm and comforting, the three of them together. 

“I’m glad you’re back with me,” he said. “I missed both of you.”

 

As Eren had predicted, Mikasa easily outmaneuvered Jean on the 3DMG. When he pointed this out to Jean, Jean muttered something about wind direction and how he hadn’t been practicing for a year. Then they had to be quiet because Section Leader Ness was tapping his pointer on the floor for silence. 

The recruits had spent the morning doing vertical maneuvering with established members of the Survey Corps. Hanji had allowed Eren to join them, reluctantly agreeing that he wouldn’t be able to spend _all_ of his time outside the Wall as a Titan. Now they were back inside for drills in Commander Erwin’s long-distance scouting formation. Eren had sat down with Mikasa, Armin, Reiner, and the others, but had to immediately get up again when Jean sat by himself in the back corner. Ignoring Jean’s protests, he dragged him down to sit with them. Jean became very stiff and defensive at the others’ curious looks, so Eren teased him about how much better Mikasa had been until he was too annoyed to be embarrassed any more. 

When they were released from the classroom, Eld was waiting outside the door to return Jean to his room. Jean faltered, moving a little closer to Eren.

“Do you have to?” Eren asked Eld. “You know he isn’t going to do anything wrong.”

“Sorry, those are my orders,” Eld said. “Nothing I can do about it. Let’s get a move on, Kirstein. I haven’t got all day.”

“I’ll bring you supper,” Eren promised Jean, who, instead of protesting, nodded and flashed him a quick, grateful smile. It surprised Eren so much that he was still standing there, staring after Jean, when Armin emerged from the room and tugged at his sleeve.

“You like him, don’t you?” Armin said.

“Jean? I guess we are friendlier now—at first all we did was argue and insult each other.”

“I mean you _like_ him,” Armin persisted, and Eren’s ears went red as he realized what Armin meant.

“How—that’s not—I do not,” he protested. 

“You were jealous of how much attention he was paying to Mikasa yesterday,” Armin said, pitiless. “And you’re always checking to make sure he’s okay.”

“I would do that for any of my friends. And Mikasa is like my sister—I have to look out for her. Don’t—why are you laughing? _Armin_!”

Consequently it was all Armin’s fault that he felt so nervous unlocking Jean’s door that evening. He wasn’t attracted to Jean, but Armin put the idea in his head and now he was going to be awkward and embarrassed because he couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

“Aren’t Armin and Mikasa coming?” Jean asked as he took the tray from Eren. 

“No,” Eren said shortly. The last thing he needed was for Armin to be giving him knowing looks all evening, and he didn’t want Mikasa spending too much time with Jean. For her own protection, not because Eren was jealous. Jean was irritating and brash and no good for her. He was just looking out for Mikasa, that was all. 

“Thanks for bringing this,” Jean said, tearing hungrily into the food. 

Eren nodded and sat down on the bed again. “I thought the long-distance scouting formation sounds like a good plan. It shows that Commander Erwin really does have a goal in mind. He’s not causing mindless deaths.”

“Maybe. But even if—and it’s a big if—we retake Wall Maria, what then? All it takes is for that Colossal Titan to show up and we’re all screwed again.”

Eren reached up to his neck, squeezing the hard metal of the key through his shirt. “Maybe we’ll find something in my basement back in Shiganshina. Something that can tell us more about the Titans and how to defeat them.”

“Maybe. If.” Jean scowled down at his soup. “I don’t want to die for ‘maybes’ and ‘ifs.’”

“You _won’t_ die. And sometimes…” Eren sighed. “Sometimes you have to have faith that you can accomplish things that seem impossible. Otherwise we’ll spend the rest of our lives stuck here behind these Walls.” 

“Yeah, but…” Jean was quiet for a moment. “It’s not all bad, is it? I mean sometimes I remember when I was little and I would play in the canal, making these boats out of sticks and twine and sailing them. I was behind a Wall, but I was still happy. Or like yesterday, when we were—” He stopped.

“When we were…?” Eren prodded.

“When we were racing,” Jean finished slowly, staring intently into his soup bowl. “It was…fun. Right?”

“Yes.” It had been fun, especially seeing Jean happy.

“So—so all I’m saying is that you don’t get to have any of that once you’re dead.”

Eren frowned. "I don't _want_ to die, you know. But I'm not going to live my life afraid of—”

“I know I’m a coward!” Jean shoved the tray away from him, rattling the dishes. “You don’t have to rub my face in it!”

“That wasn’t what I—”

“I’m just saying you should think about what you’re giving up for once!” Jean glared at him.

“What does that mean?” He stood up, still confused, but edging rapidly toward angry. 

“I’m talking about Armin—Mikasa—all of your friends. I saw you with them today and…” Jean heaved in a deep breath.

“Are you saying I don’t care about them? You don’t know _anything_ —”

“They stood up for you, didn’t they? I bet they didn’t give a shit that you can turn into a Titan. You don’t know what it’s like to be abandoned and _alone_. All you care about is killing fucking Titans.”

“That’s not—” He shoved Jean in the chest, making him stumble backwards. “Who do you think I’m _doing_ this for? Myself _and_ them. Besides, Mikasa and Armin and the others, they would never want me to give up. They’re not like—” He stopped, catching himself.

“Like me?” Jean said, head down, slumped against the wall. 

“No—Jean, that’s not…” Eren sighed, the anger draining out of him. Fuck. He’d pushed Jean, so caught up in his anger that he’d shoved him into the wall when he knew what Jean had been through. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever you might think, I don’t just care about myself,” Jean said quietly, not raising his eyes from the floor. 

“I don’t think that. I’m sorry.”

Jean was silent, still not moving.

“Jean, please—” He reached for him, but Jean pulled away, and Eren let his hand fall, guilt souring his stomach. 

“Maybe you could leave now.” Jean’s voice shook, and Eren was pretty sure he was crying. 

He wanted to touch Jean, comfort him, but maybe it would be better if he left. “Okay,” he relented, standing there helplessly a moment before picking up the tray and moving to the door. “I’ll—I’ll see you in the morning, then. And I’m sorry.”

Jean didn’t reply, keeping his face turned away, ashamed of his tears.

 

“I’m a horrible person,” Eren said to Mikasa and Armin at breakfast the next day. 

Mikasa tucked her scarf closer around her neck. “You’re not horrible.” 

Armin made a sympathetic face. “Something happened with Jean, didn’t it?”

“I keep trying to help him and all I do is make it worse.” 

“Maybe,” Armin began, but before he could dispense any helpful advice, Petra appeared with word that Commander Erwin wanted to see Eren.

Could they be planning the expedition to retake Maria? Heart beating faster, Eren followed her to the room the Commander had taken over as his office. 

“Eren. How are you?” the Commander asked as he entered and saluted. 

“I’m good, sir.”

“Hanji tells me you can control your shifting now.”

“For the most part, sir. I need to have a goal—a clear reason in my mind beforehand.”

Erwin made a considering noise and then stood up, walking over to the window and looking out. 

Eren mustered his nerve to ask a question. “Have you had any luck finding out who killed the two Titans that were captured? Hanji kept bursting into tears over it for days afterwards.”

“We haven’t caught them yet.” Erwin turned to look at him. “How is Jean getting along? Levi told me that you had been looking after him.”

“Uh, yes, sir.” Eren shifted from one foot to the other. “He’s very good on the vertical maneuvering gear.” 

“Excellent.” Erwin returned to his chair. “The reason I asked you here is that I’m planning a mission, and I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Are we going back to Shiganshina?”

Erwin smiled at his enthusiasm. “Not yet. Before we can plan such a long mission, we need to set up a few supply bases along the route. I also want to give the new recruits a chance to experience conditions in the field.”

“Most of them fought at Trost, like me.”

“Yes, but it’s different outside the Wall in a more open area.” 

Eren nodded, not sure what the Commander wanted him to say. 

"You won't be going with them."

Eren gaped at him. Not go—not go with Armin, and Mikasa, and Jean? “But, sir, I’m just as inexperienced.”

“You’re too valuable to risk,” Erwin said gently. “Not until there’s a good reason.”

Eren bit back his instinctive protest that helping his friends _was_ a good reason. 

“I wanted to tell you first, because I know it’s hard to wait and watch others go into battle. But it needs to be this way, Eren. Do you understand?”

He made himself nod. “Yes, sir.”

Erwin announced the mission to the rest of the Corps later that day. They would leave for Karanes, and then proceed outside the Wall from there. It would only be a short expedition—no more than a few hours—but enough to scout the lay of the land and give the new Survey Corps members a feel for things. 

Eren listened bleakly, wishing he could go. Mikasa took his hand. “Don’t worry,” she said. “It’s better for you to stay here.”

“Of course you would say that,” he grumbled, tugging his hand free and ignoring her hurt look. 

“It makes sense, Eren,” Armin said. “You know that.”

“I don’t have to _like_ it.” 

He was worried about Jean too. He hadn’t seen him all day, and he knew Jean would be nervous about going on his first mission. Probably Jean was still angry at him for last night. Still, he took Jean his supper, like usual, and he didn’t think he was imagining the relief in Jean’s eyes when he came through the door.

“Hungry?” he asked, trying a smile.

“Yeah. Thank you.” Jean smiled hesitantly back, and Eren felt a bit better. 

He took his usual seat on the bed. “You heard about the mission?” 

Jean nodded. 

“Commander Erwin won’t let me go.” 

“It makes sense.”

“You’re as bad as Armin.” Eren sighed and worried at a ragged fingernail on his hand. “I hope Armin does better than he did at Trost. He kind of…froze up and couldn’t move. But Mikasa will be there. She can help him.”

Jean looked at him, his expression solemn. “I’ll protect them too, Eren. As best I can. I promise.”

Eren stared back, caught by Jean’s hazel eyes. “Thank you,” he said at last, and Jean nodded and returned to his meal.

It wasn’t until they were leaving two days later, a dusty cloud disappearing down the road from the castle, Jean the only brown-shirted figure among the crowd of green cloaks, that Eren realized he hadn’t told Jean to come back safely to him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Events in the story will be converging with canon, but for plot purposes, I'm lengthening the amount of time between Eren's trial and the Female Titan arc as opposed to having Erwin rush everybody outside the Wall ASAP. 
> 
> I probably won't be able to update until after the holidays, but will do my best to get something written during them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally back with a new chapter. Updates should be relatively more frequent now.

Eren dreamed he was back in Trost, standing on a narrow street, surrounded by the shattered hulks of buildings. Snow had fallen, and the untrammeled whiteness stretched in front of him. 

Suddenly Jean was next to him, and he took Eren’s hand. “This way,” he said, and Eren followed him. The tips of Jean’s ears were red from the cold, but his hand was warm. 

They went into a building. Eren’s father stood there behind a table covered with syringes. Jean disappeared, and his father started talking, but Eren kept interrupting. He wanted to know where his father had gone, and then he started smashing the syringes while his father stood by, sad and silent.

The dream shifted again. Now he was with Jean once more, back outside in the empty streets of Trost. But the ground shook under their feet, and Jean kept saying, “They’re coming. They’re coming.”

“No.” He put his hands on Jean’s shoulders. “Look at me. I’ll keep you safe.”

Jean met his eyes, and now they were lying together, and he had his arms around Jean, and Jean’s bare chest felt hot under his fingers.

Before things could progress farther, Eren woke up, starting from sleep to a warm, tangled nest of blankets. He felt disoriented, his skin jumpy, and realized that the hollow, achy feeling was disappointment that Jean was not sleeping next to him. 

He fumbled out of the blankets, cool air rushing over his skin, and then let his head thump back down on the pillow. “Dammit, Armin—why do you always have to be right?” he muttered.

He’d been drifting through the past few days, lonely and worried for his friends. He hadn’t realized how much it had helped to have Jean with him, a prickly yet comforting presence, until he was gone. 

Eren tried not to worry that his absence might become permanent, but anything could be happening outside Wall Rose. Jean, Mikasa, Armin, and all the other cadets—any one of them could die. 

And Jean—if he did come back— _please, please let him come back_ —but if, no _when_ he did, what the fuck was Eren supposed to do then? He had never kissed anyone, never done anything. Did he want to kiss Jean? He pictured it, Jean’s bony frame pressed against him, their breath mingling, and experienced a confusing jolt of desire, embarrassment, and fear. He thought about Jean touching him and had to squirm over onto his stomach, burying his flushed face in the blanket. 

If… if he did kiss Jean, he’d have to be careful—very, very careful—because Jean would be skittish and unsure. He’d have treat Jean very gently. He imagined Jean smiling up at him while he petted his fingers through Jean’s hair and maybe…maybe rolled their hips together. Perhaps Jean would even slide down and put his wet, warm mouth on Eren and suck…

Stifling a moan, he wormed a hand between his thighs and started stroking himself. What would Jean feel like in his hand? Would Jean be loud or quiet? Probably loud, and he’d gasp Eren’s name and beg for him to…to…Eren’s face grew even hotter at the thought of Jean asking him to finger him. 

_Eren…touch me…fuck, please. Eren—there—please, fuck, I want your—_

Eren climaxed with a bitten-off groan, leaving his hand all wet and sticky. As the arousal ebbed away, embarrassment surged in its wake. Jean would _never_ say things like that. Ever. And how had he gone from thinking about kissing Jean to thinking about…well, about _that_? He couldn’t even think the word without blushing harder than he ever had in his life. 

Then he realized he was jerking off to images of Jean while Jean himself was out fighting for his life. Shame replaced the embarrassment, and after a moment he violently flung off the blankets and stumbled from the bed. 

After he had cleaned himself up, he took a moment to breathe deeply. The dream—imagining Jean like that—it was just hormones. Wasn’t that what Shadis had said to them in that extremely uncomfortable lecture he had given to them in their second year in the training corps? Actually, if Eren recalled correctly, Shadis had barked something like “I don’t care where you stick your dick, just make sure I don’t hear or see anything about it. Understand that, Springer?”

But, whatever, it was all the same principle. He was a teenager. He couldn’t be held responsible for what he thought about when he got horny. As long as Jean never realized the thoughts Eren had been entertaining about him, everything would be fine. If Jean ever found out…well, he would either never speak to Eren again or else tease him mercilessly. 

 

It was later that day that Petra yelled for Eren to come up to the ramparts because the Scouting Legion was returning. Squad Levi, including its captain, had remained behind with Eren on orders from the Commander. 

He tore up the steps and joined her, gripping the cold stones as he peered down at the road. From this distance, he couldn’t pick out individual faces, but Jean had been wearing that brown jacket… 

Nothing but green, emblazoned with the white wings, met his eyes. 

No. No, it _couldn’t_ be. Except that he knew, painfully well, that it could. 

Down in the yard, he waited, still holding out hope. His heart gave a painful jolt of relief when Armin tumbled from his horse, followed by Mikasa. And there was Connie, and Reiner, and Sasha, and Bertolt. Everyone safe, everyone back except—

“Hey.”

He turned around so quickly that he stumbled, and Jean reached out to steady him.

“Y-you’re wearing a cloak,” Eren stammered.

“Oh. Yeah.” Jean looked down at himself. “Someone loaned me a spare. It was kind of cold out—”

Eren flung himself at him, wrapping him in a hug. Jean staggered back, yelping with surprise. Then he went stiff in Eren’s arms for a long moment before gingerly patting him on the shoulder. 

“Hey, it’s okay.”

He wasn’t sure what he could say to Jean—what he _wanted_ to say—so he let go, turning to give Armin and Mikasa a hug each too. Armin returned the embrace, while Mikasa accepted it stoically and patted Eren’s head. 

“How…was it?” Eren asked.

“We cleared the Titans from the immediate vicinity of the Wall outside of Karanes,” Mikasa replied, “and set up a supply cache a few miles farther out.” 

“It was…easier than Trost,” Armin said, knowing what Eren really meant. “Kind of. I mean, the older Scouts did most of the fighting—we were in charge of the extra horses. Although Jean’s group ran into a bit of trouble.”

Eren looked at Jean, who had taken off the cloak and folded it, holding it a short distance away from his body. 

“My section leader got killed,” Jean said, his voice devoid of any emotion. “And I had to take over.”

“He led his group to safety,” Armin supplied when it became obvious Jean wasn’t going to say any more. “And got an assist on a kill.”

“That’s great!” Eren smiled but faltered when Jean didn’t return it. “I told you it would be all right.”

“I have to return this,” Jean said, and walked off to find the Scout whose extra cloak he had borrowed. 

Armin moved closer to Eren and said in a softer voice, “I heard Erwin tell him that he wouldn’t have to be locked up anymore. I don’t think the Commander ever believed that stuff about Jean trying to commit treason, and now that he’s performed so well on a mission, it will be enough to keep the Military Police placated.”

“Why doesn’t he seem happier then?” He had been so relieved to see Jean back safe and whole, and he’d wanted Jean to be equally happy. Maybe he’d even hoped Jean might be more, well, affectionate with him, to show some sign that he had missed Eren as much as he had missed Jean.

“You’ll have to ask him that, I think,” Armin said.

 

Now that Jean wasn’t under constant guard, he instantly became much harder to track down. Eren finally located him later that evening, cleaning his vertical maneuvering gear by the light of a lamp. He was rubbing the gears carefully with a cloth, his fingers shiny from the oil he was using. 

Jean looked surprised to see him. “Why are you here?” he asked.

“Why do I need a reason to see you?” Eren countered, sitting down across the table from him. 

“Because you don’t have to bring me supper anymore,” Jean said, slowly, as though he was stating an obvious fact. “Because your friends are here now.”

“You’re my friend too. At least, I’d like you to be,” he added, nervous at talking about these things so plainly. They’d always gone unspoken but understood with Armin and Mikasa. “I…I thought we were.”

“Oh.” Jean’s embarrassed blush stood out on his fair skin. “I wasn’t sure.”

“So we are friends,” Eren concluded cautiously, and Jean gave a short nod, rubbing harder at one of the scabbards. 

“So, then,” Eren continued after a few minutes in which Jean did not look up from his task. “The mission—it sounded scary but like you really held it together. Better than I did, my first time in a fight. I got my leg bitten off about two minutes into it.”

Jean blinked at him, startled.

“It grew back. The whole Titan thing,” Eren reminded him.

“Right.” Jean’s eyes went distant, and he gripped the cloth tighter in his hand. “It was so…big and empty outside the Wall. And quiet. It hasn’t even been that many years since humans were still living there. If that was what it was like in Maria territory, imagine what it must be like Outside.”

He licked his lips, and his voice got quieter. “And then I—I heard them coming. It was…”

“You don’t have to say,” Eren broke in. “I know.” 

“I just did what seemed necessary. I was fucking scared out of my mind the whole time.” Jean ran a hand through his hair. “But I realized something—I realized I’d been wrong.”

“About?” Eren prompted, after a moment.

“You.” 

Eren’s heartbeat ratcheted higher.

“About your ability to shift into a Titan.”

Oh. 

“It really is important,” Jean continued, oblivious to Eren’s disappointment. “You really have the chance to change things. _We_ have that chance, with you.”

“I thought you didn’t care about changing things.”

Jean shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. If there’s a reason—a good reason—and a chance to really make a difference, then I would care.” He gave Eren a fierce look. “I would.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Jean rubbed a tired hand over his face. “When I was on the mission, fighting, I realized that no matter what I did, no matter how many Titans I killed, it would ultimately be meaningless. There would always be more. But your power—the answer to why you’re like this—it might make all the difference in the world.”

“I hope so too.” He stroked the skin of his palm—the one that had been bitten off and regrown. “I hope I can do all I can to change things.”

“You better do more than hope,” Jean retorted, and then his voice softened. “It must be nice—to know that your life is worth something.”

Eren was going to say he wasn’t sure that described how he felt—most days he couldn’t decide if his ability was a burden or something to accept or something to fear—but then he realized the hidden meaning in Jean’s words.

“Don’t say that like your life is worth nothing,” he said to Jean. 

“Why not?” Jean had stopped cleaning his gear, just running the cloth through his fingers, over and over. “When I was going to be executed, I thought to myself—the only people who will care that I’m dead are my parents. I guess a few of our neighbors, kids I grew up with, the other cadets in my training corps, they might have been sorry to hear it, but they’d have forgotten about me quickly. If I died…I wouldn’t leave much of an empty spot to be filled. You would.”

“ _Stop_ ,” Eren said, and Jean looked up at the anger and hurt that were plain in his voice. “Don’t say those things. You _are_ worth something. You’re worth so much, Jean. Maybe you can’t see it, but you are.” 

“I guess maybe I could be a good Scout,” Jean allowed. “I can maneuver fast, at least.”

“It’s more than that. It’s—you’re—you mean a lot to—to me,” Eren said and then stopped, flushed and breathless, trying to read Jean’s expression. 

“Because we’re friends?” Jean said hesitantly after a moment.

“That and…and…yes,” Eren finished, giving up on trying to give voice to his confused feelings. 

They fell silent for several minutes, and Eren's blush finally faded, leaving him a little chilled. He sat on his hands to keep them warm and watched Jean, wondering what he was thinking. 

Abruptly, Jean stood up, his chair squeaking over the flagstones. Eren started, surprised, and worried Jean was angry with him. But when Jean spoke, it wasn't about what he had just confessed. It was another kind of confession, one that Eren had been both dreading and wanting to hear. “When I was with the MPs,” Jean began and then stopped. 

“Jean?” Eren stood up too. Jean had drawn into himself, a tense ball, his fingers locked onto the edge of the table. “Jean….” He walked around to his side and gently tried to pry one of his hands free.

“He wanted to hurt me,” Jean said, low and rough. “He wanted me to do things to him.”

“Who? Your—your commander?”

Jean nodded, once, and then sank down onto the floor, like his legs suddenly gave out from under him. Eren crouched down too, kneeling behind him, and tentatively put one arm and then another around Jean. He didn’t hold him tightly, not wanting Jean to feel trapped, but close enough that Jean could sense his warmth, his presence. He didn’t know what else to do—knew, pretty well, the things that Jean might say to him—and he wouldn’t know how to respond, what to say to make it better, but he could do this. He could be here.

“His name is Haese.” Jean shuddered. “He wanted me to…suck him off.” This Jean said in a small voice, laden with embarrassment. “I said no. But maybe I…if I had…none of the rest would have happened. I was silly to get so upset about it.”

“You weren’t. He should never have done that. He’s the one who did something wrong. Not you.”

He wasn’t sure if Jean comprehended what he said, or agreed, for Jean kept speaking, forcing the thin, cringing words out. “At first it was just…little stuff. Making me clean the latrines all the time. That sort of thing. And he was always watching me, and I knew—I knew he could do whatever he wanted, and I couldn’t stop him.”

Eren rested his head against Jean’s, trying to convey his sympathy, his support.

“But then I found out he was involved with a slavery ring. And I—fuck, I was so stupid. I actually thought I could get him kicked out of the MPs. When he found out what I was trying to do—that’s when he accused me of treason. Of course, everyone believed him. Everyone. Who was I, compared to him?”

Jean was holding onto Eren’s hand now, his grip almost painful.

“He ordered me flogged. That’s where all the scars on my back are from. And then they sentenced me to death, and I know he told the guards at the prison to hurt me too. They would come into my cell, and I was chained down, there was nothing…nothing I could have done.” Jean started crying then. “Could I have? Eren—what should I have done? What should I have done?”

Eren swallowed down the lump in his throat. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing. I think you were really brave. I do,” he insisted at Jean’s disbelieving head shake. “I do.”

He wished he could have been there to stop that sick bastard from hurting Jean. There must have been other MPs who knew what was going on, but they hadn't done a thing to stop it. Eren's already low opinion of the MPs dropped lower still. He could only be thankful that Erwin had happened to see Jean in prison and decided to help. Otherwise... Eren shut his eyes and leaned a little closer, Jean's hair tickling his nose. 

Jean let him keep holding him until his sobs grew quieter. Then he pulled away, wiping at his face. 

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said.

“I won’t,” Eren promised, wishing he could keep Jean close to him. 

Jean sniffed again and stood up, starting to collect his gear and clean the table. Eren hovered beside him. 

“I guess we’ll be back to drills tomorrow,” he said at last, and Jean nodded.

“Yeah. I doubt Commander Erwin ever lets you get a break.” 

He stayed until Jean had finished and walked with him into the corridor. Jean had been moved to the communal barracks, but Eren still had to go to his room in the basement. They paused at the head of the stairs.

“Eren…thank you,” Jean said quietly, looking off to the side. 

“Of course.” It felt like such a huge space stood in between them, even though it couldn’t have been more than a foot. “Good night.”

“Yeah.” Jean offered him a quick, half-hearted smile that didn’t reach his eyes and disappeared down the corridor. 

As he lay in bed that night, unable to fall asleep, Eren kept thinking about how he had told Jean how much he meant to him, and how Jean had immediately assumed Eren meant friendship. Which it was, very much so, and yet it was becoming different than his other friendships. More intimate, tender, and fragile than anything he had ever experienced. If Jean had felt the same—wouldn’t he have read something more into Eren’s words? But surely Jean’s mind had been elsewhere—on the mission, on everything that had happened to him. Whatever feelings he had for Eren would have been far from thought. Eren shouldn’t ask more from Jean than he was in a place to give.


	6. Chapter 6

It had happened again. He had completely broken down in front of Eren. 

Jean buried his head further under the blanket, wishing he didn’t have to face the world.

Fuck. Why? Why did this keep happening? 

But he knew why. It was because Eren cared about him. 

He hadn’t been sure at first, but Eren’s actions—and now his words—had made it clear. 

Jean…didn’t know what to do with this fact. There had been casual friends, his fellow cadets, and Rilla, who he had once almost kissed, but within a few months, the attraction had lessened, and she had joined the Garrison anyway, transferring far away. There had never been anyone like Eren in his life. 

He pulled the blanket closer, feeling Eren’s arms around him. He wanted that again. He wanted to hold Eren. To kiss him. To brush his fingers through Eren’s hair and look into his beautiful eyes. 

Eren had confirmed they were friends. He said…Jean’s cheeks grew warm at the memory… _you mean a lot to—to me_. 

Jean thought he would never get tired of repeating that to himself. 

 

***Jean, age eight***

“Don’t cry, Jeanbo. It will be all right.”

“But everyone laughed, Mama. Everyone laughed, and Irmgard wouldn’t even take the flowers I had picked for her.”

“I know, darling, I know. But next time you like someone, perhaps you shouldn’t blurt it out in the middle of the classroom, hmmm? Pick a more private, romantic place.”

 

***Jean, age nine***

“Jeanbo, you can’t just _say_ things like that. It gets you into trouble.”

“But he _did_ cheat, Mama. He cheated on the test, and everyone knew it. I’d have had the highest grade in the class if Marcel hadn’t cheated.”

“And now you’re going to have a black eye because Marcel hit you.”

 

***Jean, age thirteen***

“Oh, Jeanbo, it’s so good to have you home, even if your visit is much too short. Now tell me all about your training—have you made any friends?”

“Don’t call me that anymore, Mama.”

“…If it makes you happier, Jeanbo.”

“ _Mama_.”

“And look at how big you’ve grown! But tell me everything.”

“…”

“What is it, Jeanbo? What’s the matter?”

“They all think it, Mama. All of them. They all want to get into the Military Police so they can be safe in the Interior. So they never have to fight. But I’m the only one who admits it, and so they all look at me like I’m a—a coward.”

“Never—my dear, good son a coward? You ignore them, Jeanbo. But perhaps, if you didn’t say such things out loud. If you were more…tactful. Then it would be easier for you.”

“I’m not going to lie. I won’t lie just to save people’s feelings.”

 

***Jean, age sixteen***

“You little shit. You’re planning to go strutting up to Nile Dok, throwing these accusations about me around, all because you can’t follow orders, because you think you’re so much better than everyone else.”

“No, sir. It’s because I know what you’ve been doing. I know about the children you’ve been sending to the fields and mines as slaves.”

“Fucking--"

"...."

"Too scared to say something now, huh? You'll have more than a split lip by the time I'm done with you. You’ll regret ever opening your mouth, Kirstein. I’ll make you pay for this with your life.”

 

Jean sat at the table in the large hall that had been converted into a mess, breakfast dishes clattering around him, Eren sitting on his right side, and thought about all the times he had told the truth to people, only to have them laugh, resent, or hate him. 

It was kind of ironic, he realized now, that he had always been so adamant about being truthful when he had been lying to himself all along. He’d told himself he would be safe in the Interior, that the Titans would never get him there, that he didn’t owe the world anything. He was only beginning to see how wrong he had been. 

But if he acted on this realization, it would mean dedicating himself to the Survey Corps. 

He glanced along the tables to the one where Commander Erwin sat. He was speaking with Hanji about something, his expression solemn and thoughtful. 

Did he trust Erwin? Would he give his life to this man and to his mission? Jean still wasn’t sure exactly what that mission was. It was bigger than simply retaking the lost Maria territory. What did Erwin want? What was he willing to do to get it?

Jean felt he knew the answer to that last question, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. 

And then there was Eren. Eren who was so involved in all of this. Eren, who was their best chance at winning a victory for humanity. Eren, for whom Jean was beginning to develop rather alarming feelings that would not be suppressed. 

If he told Eren the truth—what would he do? 

Every other time, telling the truth had not gone well for him. Maybe it would be better to keep quiet, to make sure he stayed friends with Eren and didn’t risk destroying what they had. But Jean was afraid he wouldn’t be able to do that. He had never been good at keeping his mouth shut. 

“Hey.” Eren poked him with an elbow. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Jean said because at least he had learned his lesson about blurting his feelings out in front of everyone. 

Eren unknowingly kept making things worse because in the wake of Jean’s confession, he seemed to feel Jean needed constant comforting and reassurance. This translated into Eren throwing his arm around Jean, nudging him, hanging off him, and teasing Jean about his hair. Jean, already feeling nervous, became tense and awkward whenever Eren did these things, which only meant that Eren redoubled his efforts, misunderstanding Jean’s hesitation. 

It was all a bit much to deal with really, and Jean threw himself into training, hoping his body and mind would be too tired to suddenly do reckless things without his permission, like grabbing Eren and kissing him.

 

The day had settled into dusk, and Jean’s arms and legs ached, his skin rubbed raw from the yank and pull of his straps. He was thinking wistfully of a hot bath when he turned a corner and practically mowed down Captain Levi.

“Sir!” he said, jumping back and standing at attention.

“Kirstein.” Levi hitched his cape closer around his shoulders. “Erwin wants to see you. Report to his office.”

Jean’s heart froze and then stuttered into a labored beat. “The Commander?” he repeated, hating how small his voice sounded.

“Yes, Commander Erwin.” Levi frowned. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

“N-no, sir.”

Levi glared at him until Jean started walking.

Commander Erwin was not Captain Haese. He wouldn’t make Jean…do anything. He wouldn’t. 

Jean repeated this to himself the entire way to Erwin’s door, but it still became harder and harder to force his legs to move. His palms had gotten sweaty, and his body wanted to shrink in on itself, curling into an unmoving ball against the shadowed wall. 

When he approached, steps faltering, the Scout standing guard asked for his name, and then knocked once, opening the door at Erwin’s muffled command and announcing Jean’s arrival. She motioned for Jean to enter and then closed the door behind him again. Jean gave it a longing glance, wishing he could rip it back open. 

Erwin was reading a report, but he put it aside. 

“At ease, Jean,” he said, and Jean relaxed fractionally, keeping his eyes fixed on the wall above Erwin’s shoulder. 

Erwin stayed seated behind his desk. Haese had walked toward him, had put his hands on his shoulders and given a little push, forcing him to sit. 

He couldn’t think about that now. He wouldn’t. He didn’t have to.

“I was very impressed with how you handled yourself in the field,” Erwin said. 

Jean tried to speak and found his voice would not come. 

“More than ever, I want you fighting for us,” Erwin continued, ignoring or forgiving his silence. “You know what we face. You know that we need soldiers desperately.”

“I—I know that, sir,” Jean stammered at last when it became obvious that this time Erwin expected a reply. 

Erwin’s eyes were mild and yet cool, judging. “Each year, when I induct new cadets into the Survey Corps, I ask them to devote their hearts to our cause. Until you do that, you cannot fully be one of us.”

“You want me to…”

“Swear it, yes.”

Jean kept his gaze on the wall as he asked, “What will you do to me if I don’t?”

Something flickered across Erwin’s face—pity, perhaps or sorrow. “Nothing, Jean.”

That drew his eyes to meet Erwin’s. “Nothing?” 

“You can leave and return to your family or wherever you wish to go. I doubt very much the Military Police would pursue the matter if you remain quiet and avoid attracting their attention.”

“Why would you let me go?” he demanded, tacking on a belated, “sir.”

“Because we have to trust each other.” Erwin sighed, casting his eyes out the window in the direction of Wall Rose. “Trust is going to become more important than ever soon. If your heart is not with us, then we cannot trust you. And you cannot trust us.”

He stopped speaking and let silence fall, allowing Jean to think about his response. Jean _wanted_ to trust Erwin. He wanted to believe in the same things Eren believed in, the same things Eren thought were possible. But—

“I can’t,” he admitted. “I want to, but I can’t.”

Erwin did not look angry or disappointed. He considered for a few moments. “Perhaps with more time—”

“Yes,” Jean broke in, and then flushed. “Yes, sir.” Even though he couldn’t commit himself to them yet, he didn’t want to leave either. “Please allow me to come with you on your next mission.” He was sure that Eren would be going on the next one.

“Very well,” Erwin allowed. “One more time. And then you must decide.”

Jean did not tell Eren about his meeting with Erwin. He suspected Eren wouldn’t understand his continued mistrust of Erwin and the Corps and would take it personally. Which would be all wrong because if there was anyone Jean trusted, it was Eren. 

 

Sometimes, Jean liked to imagine what he would have been doing if there had been no Titans, and no Walls, if there had been a way to gain security and respect without becoming a soldier. 

At the moment, he was pretending he had become a baker. In their world, bakers received rationed grain and had to produce a quota of bread each week. But in his imaginary world, he had unfettered access to flour and sugar and salt and could make whatever he wanted. He would own a small shop alongside the canal, just round the corner from his parents’ house. He imagined the warm, sour smell of bread baking, and the comforting heat of the ovens. 

He would have to rise before dawn every day and by the time the sun made its appearance, he would be taking the first baking of the day out of the ovens. That’s when Eren would come into the shop, yawning and disheveled from sleep, rubbing a drowsy hand across his eyes and smiling at Jean. 

He’d give Eren a fresh roll and some cookies. And Eren would reach across the counter and wipe away the streak of flour on his cheek. He would capture Eren’s hand and kiss his fingers and—

Jean stopped, snapping back to the present and the dishes he was helping to wash. Where in the fuck had _that_ come from? He was not sappy and sentimental. He’d never kiss Eren’s fingers like—like a prince with a princess in a story! 

It was only because he was hungry—they were always hungry, there was never enough food—and it was making him think weird things. 

But later, when Eren found him—because Eren was always finding him, apparently convinced Jean would collapse in a sad bundle of tears if left on his own for a few hours—he was tired from the long day, and half-dreaming, still thinking of warm bread and Eren’s smile. He took Eren’s hand without thought and only realized what he had done when he saw Eren’s wide eyes looking at him.

“Oh,” he said, stupidly, and didn’t let go.

“Jean,” Eren said, his voice pitching higher on the end of his name and then descending into a little hiccupped gulp. 

And Jean, who couldn’t seem to stop telling the truth no matter where it landed him, blurted, “I like you,” and then blushed, dropped Eren’s hand, and stared at the floor. At least he had said it when it was just the two of them, although the stable yard was pretty low on the list of romantic locations.

A pause, and then Eren’s fingers inched toward his own, touching lightly, and then securing a firmer grip. 

Oh. _Oh_.

He turned quickly, found Eren’s face much closer than he had expected, and froze. “Have you ever…?” he asked, and Eren shook his head. 

“I haven’t…either…” he admitted, losing the thought the next moment in Eren’s eyes and the curve of his mouth. 

The kiss, when it came, was awkward and over too quickly, and Jean could never remember afterwards who had initiated it. But Eren didn’t let go of his hand, and after a moment, when each of them had recovered their breath and gathered their courage, they tried another one, and then leaned against each other. Eren was laughing—giddy and exhilarated—his breath tickling Jean’s ear. For his part, Jean couldn’t stop smiling and finally pressed his face into Eren’s shirt, his delight somehow a private thing and not meant to be gawked at by the world at large.


	7. Chapter 7

Jean twisted his fingers in Eren’s shirt and pressed his cold nose against the juncture of Eren’s neck and shoulder. He felt kind of shaky and overwhelmed because they’d just jerked each other off and maybe it wasn’t a big deal—it wasn’t like they’d fucked or even taken off their clothes—but it was still his first time doing it. And he’d been afraid—afraid that he would freeze up or find himself thinking of Haese or all the lewd comments the guards would make when they beat him. But he hadn’t. There had only been Eren, with his cute little hiccupped gulps and big eyes, just as overwhelmed as Jean but trying not to show it. Eren made him feel safe, and so he couldn’t help curling into him and breathing in his scent after the first rush of pleasure. 

“Okay?” Eren asked softly.

He nodded, not moving.

Eren kissed his forehead, a quick brush of his lips, as though he didn’t want to appear too sentimental. Jean didn’t mind. He wished Eren would keep kissing him and stroke his hair and whisper silly, sweet things. 

“I got come on your jacket,” he confessed into Eren’s neck.

Eren giggled and then cleared his throat. “I’ll wash it. Or you can.” He nudged Jean’s leg with his knee.

“I’ll let you do it.”

Eren laughed again. 

Jean finally moved his head enough to squint up at Eren’s face. “Sex puts you in a really good mood, doesn’t it?”

Eren bit his lip, but he was grinning like a maniac. Jean snorted, slumping a little more, Eren catching his weight.

“And it makes you all sleepy, huh?” Eren said. “Want me to sing you a lullaby?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jean muttered. 

There was a pause, and he could feel Eren’s other arm moving, and then Eren coughed, retching a little.

“What’s wrong?”

“I tried, um, licking it off my hand. Your…you know.”

Jean’s stomach squirmed a little, whether in embarrassment or arousal he couldn’t tell. “Ugh.”

“Yeah. But maybe it would be better if I was, er, sucking you.”

That was definitely arousal. “Do you want to do that?”

A pause. “Maybe. Kind of.”

“What about…you know?”

“Fucking?” Eren’s voice squeaked a little on the ‘g.’

Jean’s face was getting all hot. “Yeah.”

“If…if you did,” Eren said carefully.

“Maybe after a while.” Jean raised his head and forced himself to meet Eren’s eyes. “Is this…I mean are we…how long will we…?” 

Eren’s eyes looked greener than usual, the corners crinkling as he smiled. “A long while. That’s what I’d like.”

“Oh.” He swallowed. “I would too.” 

 

Armin and Mikasa knew immediately of course. Actually everyone did because Eren hung all over him and kept taking his hand and even smacked a kiss on his cheek when they were getting into their gear before a training exercise. But Jean was sure Armin and Mikasa would have figured it out even without Eren’s exuberant displays of affection. 

Mikasa gave him a very cool look, and Jean’s mouth went dry with nerves, which was ridiculous because she wasn’t actually Eren’s mom or anything. She reached toward him, and he flinched, but all she did was adjust his shoulder strap. “Thanks,” he stuttered, and she nodded. 

Eren beamed at him, so perhaps that was Mikasa’s version of approval.

Later, Armin caught him by himself for a moment. “It’s nice to see Eren happy,” he said. “But don’t be surprised if he gets upset too.”

“Yeah, I know he has a temper.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Armin paused, thinking. “This—it might change how he feels about the Titans, about what we have to do, and he might not know how to handle that.”

Jean frowned. “Killing Titans—freeing humanity—that’s _it_ for Eren. He’s dedicated himself to that. And I’m not going to ask him to stop,” he added. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“You wouldn’t have to. Eren will still think it.”

But the very next day Commander Erwin announced that their next mission would take place within the week. This time Eren would be coming with them, to give him a chance to demonstrate his abilities and prove once and for all that he was a friend to humanity. Eren’s body quivered with anticipation, and his eyes shone, and Jean thought that Armin was wrong—nothing on earth would ever make Eren give up his desire to fight Titans—certainly not Jean.

 

“Jean?”

They were in Karanes again, camped outside of the town. Tomorrow morning at first light the gate would open. He had been lying awake in his bedroll, staring up at the stars, and trying not to think too much about it. He had made the decision to be here. He wasn’t going to turn back. 

Eren was lying next to him, and Jean had thought he was asleep, but then Eren whispered his name and shifted, rolling over to face him.

“Jean, if I can’t do what I’m supposed to do—what I _need_ to do—the Military Police are going to try and take me away, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” he said, the word rough on his throat. “I— _we_ —wouldn’t let that happen, though. I mean, never mind me, Mikasa could take down most of them without breaking a sweat.”

Eren was silent. Jean sat up, shivering as the night air hit his skin. He tried to make out Eren’s expression in the dark but couldn’t, so at last he felt for his hand. Eren’s cold fingers met his. 

“You were right,” Eren said at last, his voice soft, almost swallowed up by the darkness. “There are good things here behind the Walls.” He gripped Jean’s hand. “And I don’t want to lose them.”

He could tell Eren he wouldn’t, but they would both know that was a lie. You couldn’t make promises like that, not in this world. 

 

_Tha-dump_

Jean’s heartbeat pounded in his ears.

_Tha-dump_

There were more people who could turn into Titans. 

_Tha-dump_

She was going after Eren.

_Tha-dump_

Erwin had _known_. He had led them here, to this forest because he had known.

_Tha-dump_

There were traitors inside the Walls.

_Tha-dump_

 

Eren was very weak. His fight with the Female Titan had left him hurt and shaken, but Jean knew it was all the people who had died trying to protect him that was the real reason why Eren was lying in this bed, pale, his eyes haunted. 

Jean wanted to crawl onto the bed and let Eren cling to him if that’s what he needed, but Mikasa was sitting in a chair on the other side, and he couldn’t very well ask her to leave when it was thanks to her and Levi that Eren was here with them and not dead or captured. Eren kept looking at him though, his eyes asking why Jean was maintaining a distance between them.

“Mikasa, would you mind getting Eren something to eat?” Jean asked at last. “I bet he’s hungry.”

“Very hungry,” Eren said, catching on. 

“All right.” Mikasa stood and gave Eren a sharp look. “Stay in bed and rest, Eren. You’re not ready to be up and about yet. Or doing anything else,” she added, giving Jean an equally sharp glance.

As soon as the door closed, Eren was reaching for him. “ _Jean_.”

“I know.” He pulled off his boots. “I couldn’t very well with her sitting there, could I?”

Eren held up the blanket as he climbed in, and as soon as Jean was settled, he wrapped his arms around Jean’s neck, burrowing close. Jean stroked his hair, running his other hand over Eren’s arms and back, the fine bones of his wrist, the curve of his ear, making sure that he was whole and here. 

They didn’t try to talk, and the quiet lulled Eren to sleep. Jean lay still, and he didn’t move when Mikasa came back in the room, carrying a tray of soup and bread. She looked at them, set down the tray, and sat in her chair. Jean flushed and held Eren a little closer. 

“I saw Armin,” Mikasa said. “He told me that Commander Erwin and Eren have been summoned to the capital.”

Jean shuddered, thinking of Eren trapped in a cell like he had been, hurt, perhaps tortured, all because those idiots couldn’t see what was happening, were too concerned with holding on to the scraps of power they had accumulated to really care about stopping the Titans. _She_ was out there, after all, and he shuddered again at the memory of the Female Titan’s eyes looking at him. 

But Erwin had come close to capturing her. He thought about what Armin had said—that Erwin was capable of putting aside his humanity, of making the choice to sacrifice as many lives as necessary in service of the greater goal. 

If Jean was going to dedicate himself to this cause—if he was going to put his trust in Erwin—then he wanted to be sure Erwin wasn’t doing it simply for his own personal glory or gain. This mission had shown him that Erwin wasn’t only concerned with retaking Wall Maria. Erwin wanted to learn the truth about this world. He wanted to set them all free, just like Eren did. 

_I want you to find your freedom,_ he thought, looking down at Eren’s sleeping face. _And I want to find mine with you._

Eren woke a short time later, stirring in his arms and smiling when he realized Jean was still with him. 

“Your soup got cold,” Jean said, and Eren laughed, but then his smile faded as the memories returned. 

“No, Eren.” He gave Eren a little shake. “You have to move past this. Don’t let it have been for nothing.”

Mikasa gave him a quelling look, but he ignored her.

“I won’t!” Eren glared and pulled away, sitting up. “I won’t forget them. And I won’t give up.”

“Good.” He climbed out of the blankets and stood up. “And don’t think I’m doing this just for you, either.”

“What do you mean?” Eren’s eyes widened. “Are you…?”

He nodded. “I’m going to swear my allegiance to the Survey Corps.”

Eren held his gaze and put his fist over his heart. Jean repeated the salute. Mikasa stood up and saluted as well. 

“We’ll do this together,” Eren said.

When Jean found the Commander, Erwin looked calm and not at all like someone whose position was on the line. “Jean,” Erwin said, turning toward him. “Have you made your decision?”

“Yes, sir.” Jean saluted again, back straight, his right hand clenched in a fist. “I devote my heart to our cause.” He trusted Erwin. Not to keep him safe—any of them—but to do what was necessary. If he was going to fight, then he had to know it would be worth it, and he trusted Erwin to make sure they did not fail. 

Erwin mirrored his salute. “You have my respect. Welcome to the Survey Corps, Jean.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Erwin nodded and relaxed. “Now—how would you like to help us catch a traitor?”

 

“You look ridiculous in that wig,” Eren said, not even bothering to hide his grin.

“I’m supposed to look like you, so shut up, idiot.” Jean tugged irritably on the wig and glared at the carriage he would have to ride in. “And you better stick to the plan. Don’t get any ideas.”

“I won’t. Armin will be there, anyway. Besides, maybe he’s wrong, and Annie isn’t really the one.”

“I never met her, but Armin seemed pretty sure. And I could tell you thought—”

“I didn’t! The fight was confusing and—” Eren stopped and sighed. “I don’t want it to be her. How could she do something like that?”

“Yeah, well, never underestimate what people are capable of.” Jean’s frown deepened. He didn’t like to think about what was going to happen when the Military Police uncovered their ruse, as was bound to happen at some point. 

“Erwin and Levi will be there,” Eren said, touching his arm. “You’ll be fine.”

Jean swallowed. “Of course. I’m not the one who should be worried. You watch yourself okay? Just because she used to be your friend—it doesn’t mean she won’t try to kill you.”

Eren nodded. “I promise.”

Jean took a deep breath and got into the carriage. Eren lingered outside and reached up, holding out his hand. Reaching down, he gave it a squeeze. 

“I’ll see you later, then,” Eren said.

“Try not to get your head bitten off,” Jean replied, and Eren grinned. His fingers slipped away, and he turned, disappearing around the back of the carriage. Jean turned around and faced the front, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart.

 

The plan seemed to be going well. They were in Stohess at least, and no one had hauled him out of the carriage demanding to know where Eren was. They had been stopped in a square for a while now. Jean thought he had heard a loud noise and was listening intently, trying to look out the window in the rear of the carriage without letting the MPs get a look at his face. 

Suddenly, the door opened. He turned, resigned to admitting the truth. It was a man in an MP uniform, he realized that much, but before he could react, the man had thrust a cloth covered in some foul-smelling substance in his face. Jean inhaled, choked, and reeled backwards.

“Hey—what—” Darkness filled his vision, and the last he knew, he was slumping down onto the floor, dimly aware of the scratchiness of the rope the man was binding around his wrists.

 

He came awake to a pounding headache and a nauseous stomach. Trying to work some spit into his dry mouth, he discovered he had been gagged, the cloth cutting into the sides of his mouth. He squinted around at his surroundings. He was in an alley, propped against a wall. His wrists were tied behind his back, but his legs were free. Still, he felt so dizzy, he wasn’t sure he could even crawl. 

Two men in MP uniforms stood over him. And then a third man appeared. 

“I don’t know what’s going on, sir,” one of the MPs said. “We’ve heard people yelling about a Titan. But we got Jaeger.”

“Excellent. We can use the disturbance as a distraction to escape the city.”

Jean went cold. He knew that voice. No—please, no—

The man crouched in front of him, and he looked up into Captain Haese’s face.

Haese’s eyes narrowed. He reached out and yanked at the wig, pulling it away. 

Jean couldn’t move, could only stare, helpless. 

“Well, well, Jean,” Haese said. “Not dead yet, I see? I should have known Erwin would be up to some sort of trick.”

“Sir, what—?” one of the MPs said, picking up the wig and staring at it.

“This isn’t Jaeger. But I bet Jean will be able to tell us all about him, won’t you, Jean?” Haese smiled, cold and cruel. “The last time we met you were very disobedient, but perhaps you’ve learned how to follow orders. And if not…well, I’ll be more than happy to teach you another lesson.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'll try not to leave you on that cliffhanger for long.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning 1: With this chapter, we're continuing past the point where the anime stopped. At first I thought it would be ending around this point, but the plot surprised me and it turns out there are several more chapters coming! So the fic will contain spoilers for events in the manga through about chapter 70. 
> 
> Warning 2: This chapter contains graphic torture. I've added that to the tags, but wanted to point it out here too. If you want more details before deciding if you want to read it or not, I've put further info in the notes at the end of the chapter.

Haese took him to an isolated house a few miles from Stohess. It wasn’t an official MP headquarters, so Jean could only surmise it belonged to Haese himself. They didn’t give him much chance to look at his surroundings, though, keeping him tied and gagged in a wagon until they arrived and then hustling him down into a cellar. A table and two chairs sat in the center, surrounded by crates and barrels. They bound him to a chair and removed the gag.

His initial terror had subsided into a churning dread that left him chilled with sweat. He tried his best not to show it, but he knew Haese wouldn’t be fooled, and he couldn’t help trying to flinch away and make himself into a smaller target when Haese came into the room.

Haese sat down across from him. He wasn’t much taller than Jean, really, but he had a lot of lean, strong muscle packed on his frame. Even if he was free, Jean wouldn’t be able to take him. Maybe Eren could—or else he could turn into a Titan and crush the bastard. 

Thinking of Eren hurt. It made him feel even more alone. He had no idea what had happened back in Stohess. Had Eren been able to capture Annie? Had he been injured? Whatever had happened, it was sure to have caused a greater or lesser degree of mayhem. Nobody may even have noticed that he was missing yet. 

“So, Jean,” Haese said, and he forced himself to meet the man’s eyes. “What can you tell me about Jaeger? That is his name, correct? The boy who can turn into a Titan.”

The only good thing about this situation was that he didn’t have any secrets to keep about Eren, and Haese couldn’t know enough to even consider asking questions about the Female Titan. “Eren can shift, and he likes killing Titans. We haven’t figured out how or why.” Jean shrugged. “That’s all I know.”

Haese considered him for a moment. “Jaeger’s ability makes him a person of considerable interest to certain parties. Erwin, of course, wants the boy for his fool notion to retake Maria.”

“And what do you want him for?” Jean spat. “Money?”

“Precisely. Should I have control of Jaeger, I would be able to get a handsome sum from those who are interested in taking a _closer_ look at his powers.”

“Sucks that you got me instead,” Jean said, taking a grim, vindictive pleasure in the fact.

Haese’s face darkened, annoyed, but then he smoothed it into a confident expression again. “‘Eren’ did you say his name is? And how close have the two of you gotten? Maybe you’ll lead him right to me, Jean.”

Jean tried to keep an indifferent expression on his face. 

“I assumed it was Erwin you were whoring yourself out to, but perhaps it’s this boy as well.”

Indifference fled, replaced by anger. “I’m not!” 

“No? Why else would Erwin have let you go free?” Haese stood up and came to stand behind him. He put his hand on Jean’s shoulder and slid it down his chest, brushing aside his collar and rubbing his thumb across Jean’s skin in a parody of a caress. Jean turned his face away. 

“Didn’t the prospect of your imminent death finally loosen you up, Jean?” Haese continued. “What else could Erwin possibly have wanted you for?”

“You—you always treated me like I was l-less than nothing.” His voice shook despite his best efforts. “But the Commander isn’t like you. I’ve helped kill Titans—I’ve survived outside the Wall—I’ve done more to help humanity in these past weeks than you have in your entire miserable existence.”

Haese slapped him, an openhanded blow across his face. 

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we? We’ll see how much you’re worth to them. We’ll see if they come rescue you or if they don’t care that you’re gone.” Haese crouched down, meeting his eyes. “And if they do come—there won’t be any point in taking you with them. I’m going to make sure of that, Jean. You won’t be of any use to your precious Survey Corps once I’m finished.”

Haese left, the other MPs following him up the stairs and out of the cellar. Jean sat there, letting himself slump forward in the ropes now that Haese was gone. He would almost have rather been taken by a Titan. They just ate humans, instinctual and unthinking. They didn’t toy with you, didn’t draw it out so cruelly. 

He knew he couldn’t count on anyone to rescue him, but he couldn’t stop himself from hoping that someone would come. 

*

There was a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. Struggling into wakefulness, Eren opened his eyes and found that it was Armin. 

“A-Armin?” he coughed, trying to sit up. His body ached, and he scrambled for the bleary memories, trying to piece together what had happened. Annie…she had been…crying… He clutched Armin’s arm. “Annie—”

“She’s not dead,” Armin said. “Do you remember what happened? She encased herself in the same crystal she used to harden her skin. We haven’t been able to break it. But Eren—”

“So it was for nothing? We didn’t get any information from her at all?”

“Not yet, but Eren—”

“I wasn’t fast enough. Fuck. I hesitated and—”

“Eren!” Armin grabbed his face between his palms. “Eren, listen to me. Wall Rose has been breached.”

Eren stared at him in shock. “Wall Rose?”

Armin nodded. “The report came in an hour ago that Titans had attacked a village within Rose territory.”

“But—but _how_?”

“We don’t know. We have to go investigate, and we have to find a way to repair the Wall quickly, before too many can get inside. And Eren, we need you to come with us.”

He frowned. “Of course I’ll come. I still feel a little achy and tired, but I can transform if I have to.” 

“That’s not what I mean.” Armin took a deep breath. “Eren, Jean is missing.”

“ _What_?”

“Either he left himself or someone took him because he was gone when the MPs opened the carriage to look for you.” 

No—this wasn’t—Jean was supposed to have been safe. “They thought he was me,” he realized. “Someone thought he was me, and when they find out he wasn’t—” He flung aside the blankets, scrambling up. “How long as it been? How long have I been sleeping?”

“A little more than a day.”

“Haven’t you been looking for him?”

“Of course. Commander Erwin sent people to search. But now…” Armin faltered. “He’s recalled them. If Titans are inside Rose, we’ll need everyone.”

He froze, fingers glued to the buttons of his jacket. “You want me to leave him behind.”

“Eren…” Armin looked down, his hair swinging in front of his face. “What else can we do?”

“No.” He sank back down onto the bed, staring up at Armin helplessly. “I _can’t_ leave him. He might be hurt—he—he needs me.” 

Armin didn’t reply.

Eren sucked in a breath, fighting back the panic. “I have to see the Commander.” Surely there was something they could do. Surely there was a way to save Jean. 

But when he found Erwin, Levi at his side, the Commander met his eyes, and Eren realized.

“You’ve given up on him,” he choked out. “You think Jean is dead.”

“It’s the most likely scenario, given the circumstances,” Erwin replied, his voice heavy. “I doubt Jean would have run away, and all the bodies have been recovered from the rubble. He was most likely taken by someone who thought he was you. Once they realized their mistake, the most prudent thing would be for them to kill him so he couldn’t reveal their identity to anyone if he escaped.” 

“But we don’t know that for sure,” Eren whispered, clenching his hands. “He could still be alive.”

Erwin nodded. “But the situation at the Wall is critical. We need you with us, Eren.” He looked over at Armin, who had followed Eren there. “Did you tell him?”

Armin shook his head. 

“Tell me what?” Eren asked. 

“During your fight, the Wall got punctured,” Erwin said. “We discovered that there are Titans _inside_ the Walls. That in fact, the Walls are made of Titans.”

“And I was thinking,” Armin continued while Eren tried to wrap his mind around this latest piece of insanity, “that if you could harden your body like Annie did, then maybe you could block whatever breach has been made in Wall Rose. We wouldn’t need to find a massive boulder like at Trost.”

Only he was capable of doing something like that. The others could fight, but if he didn’t come with them—if he stayed here to look for Jean…. Tears burned his eyes. He looked at Levi who watched him silently for a moment and then said, “I told you already. You have to choose whatever you’ll regret the least.”

Eren looked down at his clenched fists. Was it always going to be like this? Was he never going to be able to save the people who mattered the most to him? 

If Wall Rose was breached—it could be Shiganshina all over again. Hundreds of thousands could die. He could either stop that from happening or try and save the person who had made him remember he had more to live for than revenge. 

_Jean. I’m sorry_. 

*

At least a day had passed. Jean couldn’t be sure of how long exactly, given that there were no windows in the cellar. They had given him a little water, and untied him so he could relieve himself, but other than that the MPs had left him alone.

It couldn’t last, though, and every creak of the floor above him set his heart pounding. He kept thinking of what Haese had said— _You won’t be of any use to your precious Survey Corps once I’m finished_. He didn’t understand what Haese had in mind, but it couldn’t be good, whatever it was. 

Haese did finally appear, sitting down across from him again. “Turns out you’re not very important to Erwin after all,” Haese said. “Or Eren.”

Jean hated hearing him say Eren’s name. He clenched his teeth, looking away so Haese didn’t provoke him into an outburst.

“The Corps is moving out of Stohess,” Haese continued. 

Maybe they had been able to get some information from Annie. Perhaps they were even ready to try and reach Shiganshina. 

Haese leaned forward. “It appears as though they aren’t going to bother looking for you.” His lip curled in a sneer. “I doubted you would prove very valuable a prisoner. Still, there’s always a chance a use for you will arise, so I won’t kill you outright.”

He stood up and took a large knife out of his belt. “But I did make a promise to you. Even if someone comes. Even if you’re rescued, it will be pointless. Erwin—this Eren that you’re so fond of—they won’t have any reason to keep you around.”

Haese called for one of the other MPs, who came down into the cellar and approached Jean, then untied Jean’s right hand on Haese’s order. The MP held his arm down, forcing him to lay his hand on the wooden surface of the table. 

“You were always so proud of your skill on the vertical maneuvering gear,” Haese said as he whetted a knife, moving it slowly. “Strutting around, telling everyone you were in the top of your class. But it’s such a simple thing to take that away from you. All I have to do is cut off a few of your fingers and ‘poof.’ You’ll be useless at it.”

Jean stared at him and then unwillingly his eyes were drawn to the knife. So that was it. But he wasn’t going to beg. Not to this man. Not ever.

“There are the tears.” Haese covered Jean’s hand with his own. “You cried when I had you flogged too. Do you remember that? What do you say, Jean? Aren’t you going to ask me to stop?”

He shut his eyes, struggling against the hands pinning him down, the ropes binding him still.

“No? I thought maybe this time you would beg me to use your body instead. Just like you did for Erwin.”

“That’s _not_ what happened.”

Haese forcibly spread out the fingers of his right hand, isolating his index finger. “You’re lying. I’m going to punish you for that.” The knife bit into his flesh, sharp and bright. 

He screamed, choking off into a hacking sob when it was finally over. And then Haese moved on to the next finger…and the next…and the next…

When it ended, they roughly bound the bleeding stumps with cloth, untied him from the chair and dragged him into a room with a heavy door, little more than a hole dug into the surrounding earth and rock. They let him fall to the ground.

“You’ll stay here, Jean,” Haese said, gripping his hair and whispering in his ear. “If someone comes for you, then maybe I’ll let you out. If no one comes, then you’ll die here. There won’t be any escape this time.”

The door shut behind Haese. He could hear the sound of heavy bars being drawn across it. There was no light, and he lay where he had fallen. His hands throbbed with each beat of his heart, the agony pulsing through his body. 

“Eren,” he whispered. “Don’t do anything stupid. Please. Not…not for me.”

Whatever had happened with Annie, he knew Erwin’s priority would be the mission to retake Maria. If soldiers could be spared to look for him, then Erwin would do it, but the larger goal would always come first. And that was good. That was why Jean had sworn to follow him. Because if he did die in this hole, it wouldn’t have been for nothing. 

He reminded himself of that, lying there bleeding in the dark. He had saved lives on his first mission outside the Wall. And he had helped delay the Female Titan and kept her away from the command group long enough for Erwin’s trap to be sprung. Maybe it hadn’t worked, but they had learned something from it. Every defeat taught them something and finally they would know enough to win a real victory. If he died here, the Survey Corps would keep working toward that goal. 

But Eren might be stupid. Eren might run off searching for him, putting the mission in jeopardy. Jean had no doubt that someone wanted to get their hands on Eren, like Haese said. And the Survey Corps needed Eren and his power. Eren would be able to save so many lives. Jean’s own, small life was nothing next to the fate of their world. 

“That’s more important.” He was crying again, but he couldn’t move his hands to wipe away the tears. “Remember that, Eren. Fuck—Eren, I’m sorry. I—I wanted more time with you. I wanted more time.”

He had to stop talking, his throat raw from screaming and lack of water. His body had started trembling from shock and the chilly air, and he tried to imagine Eren was there with him, his arms warm and comforting. It didn’t work very well, but thinking about Eren was better than thinking about what had happened to him or how he was going to spend his last days trapped in this dark hole alone. 

If Erwin hadn’t gotten him out of prison before, he would have been dead already. He would have been spared this pain and fear. But he would never have gotten to meet Eren then, or kissed him, or known how it felt to care for someone like that—in a way that made him want to be at Eren’s side, that made him want to show Eren all the intimate, carefully guarded parts of his heart. Even if it meant this was how it ended, he couldn’t regret having experienced those things and known that happiness. 

_I love you. Know that, Eren. Know that I loved you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know--as though canon by itself was not sad and angsty enough, I've had to make it more so. 
> 
> Additional warning notes: The torture involves a sadistic character verbally humiliating and terrorizing Jean, cutting off a number of his fingers, and then locking him into a small, dark space without food or water. I don't describe the finger amputation in great detail, but it is a significant part of the scene.


	9. Chapter 9

Slowly, Eren threaded the saddle strap through the buckle. His horse lifted a hoof and set it back down, the sound ringing against the cobblestone, almost drowned out by the noise coming from the all the soldiers and horses around them as the Survey Corps prepared to move out of Stohess. 

Every breath he took burned in his chest. He had to force himself to keep going, to tighten the cinch, to adjust the stirrups. 

Mikasa, her own horse saddled and standing patiently by, put a hand on his arm. 

“I feel like I’m back in Shiganshina,” Eren whispered. “Like Hannes is dragging me away from our house, and we’re running away, and mom is being—”

Mikasa’s grip tightened to the point of pain, and he fell silent. 

He looked up when Armin jostled through the crowd, breathing hard. “Eren!” Armin gulped some air. “I think I’ve found someone who can help.”

Eren noticed then that two people had followed Armin. They were both around his age, a girl with blond hair and a boy with black hair in a bowl cut, the sides of his head shaved. They wore Military Police uniforms. 

“This is Hitch,” Armin said, gesturing to the girl. “And Marlowe.”

“They’re Military Police,” Eren said, giving both of them a suspicious look. Hitch glared back at him, but Marlowe looked almost embarrassed. 

“Yes, but I think we can trust them.” Armin’s voice grew quieter. “They were asking about Annie and what had happened to her.”

“And _he_ said she turned into a Titan,” Hitch said. “Personally, I think that’s a load of crap. I don’t know what game you’re playing but—”

“ _I_ can turn into a Titan,” Eren said, and he let some of the helpless rage he was feeling bleed into his voice. Hitch and Marlowe both paled. 

“We need their help,” Armin said quietly, and Eren took a deep breath.

“My friend—he’s gone missing. We think someone kidnapped him.” He curled one of his hands in Mikasa’s sleeve, holding on tightly. “He might be hurt and—and we have to leave. I can’t look for him.” 

“It’s almost certain that he was taken outside of the city,” Armin said. “The Corps searched the city limits pretty thoroughly before we ran out of time. And there’s a good chance that members of the Military Police took him—or at least people dressed in MP uniforms—because the guards at the gate don’t remember any civilians leaving the area while the fighting was going on, but there were lots of reinforcements being brought in and messengers leaving.” 

“It wouldn’t surprise me if MPs were involved,” Marlowe said, his jaw tight. 

“So will you search for him? Please?” Eren’s voice caught, and Mikasa’s cool fingers touched his wrist. “His name is Jean Kirstein. He’s a year or so older than I am, but about my height, skinnier though, and his hair is r-ridiculous. H-he’s—”

He had to turn away for a second, swiping at the tears threatening to fall. Armin kept talking, telling them more about Jean, about how he had probably been taken because he was pretending to be Eren. That was the crux of it. If it wasn’t for these abilities, Jean would never have been in danger. If not for his abilities, he wouldn’t have to leave now. 

When he had regained enough control to look back at the others, he found Marlowe watching him. “We’ll find Jean,” Marlowe said.

“You can’t just agree like that, Marlowe,” Hitch snapped. “Our captain—”

“Gave up any right he had to order us around,” Marlowe returned. “I said I was going to reform the Military Police, and this is as good a place to start as any. If their friend is hurt—we can’t just ignore it, Hitch.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Hitch muttered. “Of course I’m not going to say no.” 

“If you find him, try and get him to a Survey Corps base,” Armin said. 

“We don’t exactly trust your fellow MPs right now,” Mikasa added. 

Hitch sniffed. “And yet you ask us for help.”

“We don’t have much choice,” Eren began heatedly, but Armin said, “We can tell you’re different,” and gave Eren a look until Eren muttered a ‘thank you.’

But he grabbed Marlowe before he could turn away. “Please. I’ll do anything—just please, try to find him.” 

Marlowe nodded, and then he and Hitch disappeared into the crowd. 

“We have to go too, Eren,” Mikasa said.

He nodded, knowing he couldn’t make any other choice. But when they found Jean—and he refused to acknowledge any other outcome—what would Jean think of him for leaving? Would he hate him? Would the trust they had slowly built disappear completely? He wouldn’t be able to blame Jean for hating him. He already hated himself for climbing on his horse and riding out into the night, the distance growing between them with every passing minute.

*

“I’m just saying that you shouldn’t trust people so fast. I mean, did you see the look in that kid’s eyes?” Hitch shuddered and quickened her step. 

Marlowe, being the idiot he was, looked unperturbed. “He was worried about his friend. I’d be the same way in his place.”

“Uh, no, you wouldn’t. You could never do crazy, Marlowe. You’re too uptight for that.”

Marlowe put on his Serious Expression. “Never mind that. We need to figure out where Jean has been taken and who took him.”

Hitch blew out her bangs. “Well, you know who we should ask.”

Marlowe’s mouth pursed, as though he had eaten something unpleasant. “I suppose.”

“Oh, don’t get up on your high horse. Lieutenant Caro knows about everything illegal that goes on around here. She’ll have an idea about who might have been involved.”

Although it looked like it physically pained him, Marlowe agreed, and they headed for the _Guten Traum_. Despite the fact that a few hours ago, Titans had been brawling through the city, Hitch had no doubt Caro would be sitting at her usual table, a glass of beer at her right elbow, playing cards in hand, and a growing pile of winnings in front of her. 

Sure enough, when they entered the dim interior, hazy with wood smoke from the fireplaces, Caro was there, jacket undone, her boots resting comfortably on the table edge. Two townsmen sat across from her, frowning at their cards. Caro glanced at Hitch and Marlowe when they entered, and annoyance flickered over her face. 

“Tell Captain Eichel that I’m off duty,” she barked at them. “I don’t give a shit if there’s a Titan in his damn bedroom.”

“That’s not why we’re here,” Hitch said before Marlowe could make any kind of comment. “Maybe we could talk in a more private setting?” She glanced at the townsmen, who looked delighted at the chance of getting out of the card game without losing more than they had already.

Caro leaned forward, squinting. “I think I remember you kids.” She pointed at Marlowe. “I saw you running laps around the square the other day. What are you, crazy?”

_Yes_ , Hitch thought to herself, _he is_.

“It is important to stay in peak physical condition,” Marlowe said stiffly.

Caro snorted. “Still, if the Survey Corps is going to start bringing their mess inside our town, you might have a point,” she allowed. “Remind me of your names. I don’t usually bother with cadets until you’ve won a hand against me or bought me a drink.”

“My name is Marlowe and this is Hitch.”

“Hitch and Marlowe, gotcha.” Caro stood up, swigging the rest of her beer. “Come on. Let’s go for a stroll—I could use a breath of fresh air, clear the stink of this place out of my nose.”

Outside the night was turning cold. Hitch noticed that although Caro walked with her hands in her pockets, seemingly relaxed, her eyes kept roaming, watching and assessing. 

Marlowe started talking immediately, telling Caro the story of Jean’s disappearance. “We thought you might have an idea of who took him,” he finished.

Caro walked a few more steps and then stopped. She leaned against the wall of a building and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re good kids, I can tell. And maybe in a couple of years, you’ll have grown a brain between you. But right now—what the hell are you thinking, blurting everything out to me like that? Did it never occur to you that I could have been in on the kidnapping?”

Hitch exchanged a nervous glance with Marlowe. “Are you?” she asked after a moment.

Caro groaned. “Even if I said no, how will you know I’m telling the truth?” She pulled a hip flask from her pocket and unscrewed it, taking a sip. “I’m not gonna make it through this conversation without a little help, I can tell.”

Hitch fidgeted. “But what are we supposed to do? We knew that you have all the best information. How could we not ask?”

“You circle around it, lead up to it slowly. Drop some hints and see how I respond to them. Subtlety!” Caro barked, and they both jumped. “They don’t teach you this stuff in the Training Corps, but you better damn well learn. You’re asking to get mixed up in a big pile of shit here, you realize that.”

“I told you,” Hitch said, kicking Marlowe’s foot. 

“You’re right that I keep my eyes and ears open,” Caro continued. “I know about most of the things going on in this town. If I’d wanted, I could have used that intel to rise in the ranks—captain, hell maybe even general. But I’m content where I am. Sure, maybe one day we’ll all get sent outside the Wall to fight, but until then I can drink good beer, enjoy a game of cards, and sleep untroubled.”

“Well some of us have a sense of duty,” Marlowe retorted, flushed at Caro’s admonishments. “Not to mention a sense of honor.”

Caro laughed. “That’s sweet, kid. But you should both ask yourself if you want to go through with this. Because if you do, it will bring you to the notice of Erwin Smith, and Captain Levi, and the rest of those crazy fuckers in the Survey Corps. And before you know it, you might even find yourself joining up with them.”

Hitch was alarmed to see that Marlowe did not look particularly disturbed at this notion. 

“Whatever comes of it, we promised that we would help,” Marlowe said, and then he looked at her, and she found herself agreeing. _Damn_ Marlowe. 

“All right then. If you’re sure.” Caro lowered her voice. “There are plenty of people who would like to get their hands on that kid who can turn into a Titan. The MPs aren’t the only ones carrying out the king’s will, you know. But I’d put my money on a man named Konrad Haese. He’s a captain in the Military Police, and he’s as rotten as they come. Slavery, blackmail—you name it. He was in town the day before the Survey Corps arrived, but he hasn’t been seen since.”

“So if he did take Jean, we have no idea where he is now,” Marlowe concluded.

Caro held up her hand. “Hold on a minute. He owns some property outside of town—a nice manor house that he bought off others’ pain and misery. You could check it out. It’s to the northwest, about two miles. But be careful. Haese’s dangerous. If he catches you snooping around, he won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Marlowe saluted, thumping his fist against his chest. 

Caro didn’t return it, just shook her head and headed back to the _Guten Traum_ , muttering about damn idiot kids. 

“I don’t even need to ask,” Hitch said. “I know you think we should investigate this manor. No—I _know_ we’ll be going to investigate. But can we please wait until morning? It’s not going to help anyone if we’re stumbling around in the dark. You’ll probably shoot yourself in the foot.”

Marlowe agreed reluctantly, with the stipulation that they leave before dawn. Consequently, Hitch dragged herself out of bed at an unholy hour, stared at Annie’s empty bunk for a few seconds, and then went to meet Marlowe at the stable. 

The guards on the gate didn’t give them much trouble, accepting Marlowe’s claim that Captain Eichel had sent them out on a reconnaissance mission. Hitch supposed that sometimes it paid to look as uptight as Marlowe did—no one ever suspected you might be lying. 

They spotted the manor from a hill, and Marlowe immediately led them into the forest in case anyone was keeping a lookout. “Let’s leave the horses here and approach on foot,” he said.

“All right.” Hitch glanced at him as they tied the horses to a tree. “Hey, what are we going to do if we get there and encounter…resistance?”

Marlowe touched the gun slung over his shoulder.

“You’ve got to be kidding! If there really are MPs involved—Marlowe, we could get court martialed. Or killed!”

“I’m not leaving until I’ve gotten to search that manor. Thoroughly. As a representative of the King, I have the right to investigate any potential crime, no matter who has committed it.” He met her eyes. “If you don’t want to come—I understand.”

Hitch walked over to him and prodded him in the chest—hard—with her finger. “Don’t be an asshole.” She poked him once more and then started walking ahead.

Marlowe scrambled after her. “What was that for? I wasn’t trying to imply that you’re a coward or anything.”

“I know!”

“Then why—” Marlowe made an exasperated noise. “Fine—whatever—let’s just get this done.”

They approached and surveyed the manor from the cover of the forest. It looked deserted, the shutters closed and locked over all the windows. 

“Should we try knocking on the door?” Marlowe whispered.

Hitch would have kicked him if they weren’t trying to keep quiet. “Let’s circle round to the back. Maybe I can crawl in through one of the windows.”

“You can’t just break into someone’s house.”

She grabbed his jacket and hauled him closer. “There is nothing official about this, Marlowe. None of the captains or commanders would support this if they knew. A broken window is the least of our problems.” 

“Okay, okay.” 

They found a window fairly close above the ground, and Marlowe hoisted Hitch onto his shoulders. She tried to pick the padlock holding the shutters closed but finally gave up and used her rifle butt to smash the wood around the lock instead. So much for being quiet. But nobody shouted or came running. 

“I doubt anyone’s here,” Marlowe said, wincing as splinters rained down on his head. 

“Yeah, probably not. Let’s check it out fast, though, in case anyone comes back.”

Hitch lifted herself in once the shutter was hanging loose and helped Marlowe climb up after her. They prowled through the dark rooms. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of blankets and bedding piled around, and Hitch remembered what Caro had said about Haese being involved with slavers. Maybe they used this place as a waypoint, keeping their captives locked up here to rest and sleep for a few hours before moving them on. 

At last there was only the cellar left. Hitch found a candle and lighted it, shielding the flame with her palm. Then she nodded at Marlowe to start down the stairs and followed close behind him.

*

Jean wasn’t quite sure where he was anymore. In moments of lucidity, he felt cool earth against his cheek, and a murky, muddled darkness swam in front of his eyes. But then he sank beneath another wave of delirium. 

Cold assailed him and yet his skin was hot. All he wanted was water. One drink, just one. His breath rattled in his throat, and he gasped at the air, burning and breathless. There was pain underneath it all, pushed back as his body strove for what it needed the most, but waiting, sometimes sending sharp needles shooting up his arms. He had tried to move, but everything swirled dizzily around him, and he always crashed back down again. 

Soon he grew too weak to move, and every breath seemed a labored inhale and exhale, a struggle almost too great to bear.

The sound of the door opening still made him startle though. Light—and people—they were talking, but he didn’t recognize their voices. That meant it wasn’t Eren. That meant they were here to hurt him some more. 

He tried to move away, but he couldn’t. “Please,” he managed to whisper, his voice barely audible.

The strangers kept talking, fragments piercing his confusion. 

“…fever…wounds must be infected…”

“…left him here to die…we have to…”

“…don’t be frightened…here to help…”

They were picking him up, but that last burst of energy had been too much, and he was fading, and finally slipping into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guten Traum = The Good Dream


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy some fluff to make up for all that angst!
> 
> As I have been throughout this fic, I'm referencing a lot of canon events in this chapter, but not going into much detail about them, as I'm assuming people know what happens, and it would be boring to repeat all of it.

The sight of Wall Maria had never made Eren happy before, but tonight the moon-washed expanse promised sanctuary. He wanted to get behind it, to shut himself in, away from all the empty saddles and the gaping space where Commander Erwin’s arm should be. Besides, Captain Levi would be waiting for them, and perhaps he would have news of Jean. 

Eren had made the decision to leave Jean behind for the sake of humanity, but all he had found was confusion and treachery. There had been no breach in Wall Rose. He hadn’t saved anyone. Instead, he’d managed to get himself captured, and so many had died to rescue him. If Jean was…no, no he couldn’t even think it.

Mikasa hauled in a painful breath, and he tried to loosen his hold a little, just tight enough to keep her seated on the saddle in front of him. Her chilled fingers held his, and once he had felt a tear splash on his hand. She was grieving for Hannes. 

He wished he could cry too, to relieve the pressure aching in his chest, but all he could feel was a white hot rage on one side and a sick, heavy guilt on the other. 

Getting everyone back over the Wall was a slow and painful process. Once Mikasa had been taken care of, Eren went to find Levi. He found him sitting outside the tent were the medics were working on Erwin. Levi looked up as he approached. 

“Captain…” Eren gathered himself. “Is there any word on Jean?”

“He’s been found,” Levi said. “And he’s alive.”

Relief coursed through him, but Levi’s expression was too grim. “What is it?”

“He was tortured, and he’s in bad shape from the blood loss, shock, and dehydration.” 

Eren swallowed, nails biting into his palms. He couldn’t crumble now. He had to get to Jean, had to help him. “Where is he?”

“In the Garrison Headquarters at Stohess.”

“I’m going to him.” 

Levi didn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes taking in every shift in Eren’s expression. “You have a week,” he finally said. “Take Armin and at least two others with you. Keep off the roads. At the end of the week, you’ll return.”

“Yes, sir.” 

_I’m coming, Jean. Hold on. Please, please hold on._

 

They made it back to Stohess without incident, which was good because Eren would have shifted, would have unleashed all of his frustrations on anyone who tried to stop him. None of them wore their uniforms, and Armin wore a ragged cap over his bright hair. They carried a letter from Levi, and the Garrison commander pointed them in the direction of the hospital after reading it and looking them over for a minute. 

_He’s delirious,_ the doctor said to them when they arrived. _A fever—we’re giving him medicine, but he’s weak. And his hands—there’s nothing, really, to be done—_

But Eren was already pushing past and stumbling to Jean’s bedside. He took in Jean’s flushed face and the too-rapid pattern of his breaths. He reached for one of Jean’s hands, and then he realized what had happened, and choked on a cry, stumbling backwards.

Jean’s hands lay propped up on pillows to try and reduce the swelling, each one swathed in white bandages. But there was no hiding the damage. Jean’s left hand was missing his middle and ring fingers. On his right hand, the index, middle, and little fingers had all been cut off. 

Armin moved closer. “Eren…”

“His hands,” Eren whispered. “They—they—how could someone…He’ll never be able to fight again, Armin. Not on the maneuvering gear.”

Lurching forward again, he knelt at Jean’s bedside, shivering. “Jean—please. Please don’t—” His throat closed on the words. He could only reach out, fingers touching Jean’s skin, so hot to the touch. He stroked his forehead and tentatively placed his other hand on Jean’s chest. Jean’s heartbeat thrummed like a bird’s, as though Eren held it trapped in the darkness of his palms after the small creature flew into a glass window and fell stunned to the ground. 

An aide came with a draught of medicine and asked for Eren’s help in lifting Jean’s head and getting him to swallow it. A while later, Armin went and fetched a candle as night fell. Eren was exhausted—the fight with Reiner, the mad scramble to get back to the Wall, and the gallop here had all taken their toll. He watched the candlelight flickering over Jean’s face in a sort of dream, struggling to keep his eyes open. Since he couldn’t hold Jean’s hand, he had curled his fingers around Jean’s arm instead. 

“The Garrison commander said that Hitch and Marlowe claimed they found Jean in an alley, but I don’t think that’s true,” Armin said, and Eren tried to rouse himself to listen.

“I think it must have been someone with the MPs who took him,” Armin continued. “But since Hitch and Marlowe didn’t have official sanction to look for Jean, not to mention the fact that they’re new recruits, they couldn’t risk reporting whoever it was.” 

“We owe them a lot.” He reached over and adjusted the pillow propping up Jean’s hands. “Armin, I think maybe I’m in love with Jean.”

Armin looked at him, a little startled at such a sudden declaration.

Eren couldn’t stop the tears that filled his eyes. “But if I love him, how could I have left him to this? What kind of person does that make me? And maybe—” He gulped in a breath, trying to blot away the tears falling steadily now. “Maybe I shouldn’t love him. If—if I have to keep making decisions like that—it will fucking tear me apart.”

“I don’t know if you can decide to stop loving someone,” Armin said quietly. 

“But I’m scared.”

“I know.” Armin rested his head on Eren’s shoulder, silently sympathetic. After a bit, he patted Eren’s elbow. “We should go get some rest. You can barely stay awake, and it won’t do anyone any good if you fall out of this chair and crack your head. The aide will come get us if there’s any change.” 

He let Armin pull him up and reluctantly left the room, turning for a last look at Jean. His body craved sleep, though, and it wasn’t until late the next morning that he woke, sitting up and blinking in momentary confusion at the strange room and the sunlight carpeting the floor. Armin was still asleep in the bed next to him, and so he dressed as quietly as he could and slipped out into the hallway. 

He ran into the doctor as he approached the hospital wing, and the man smiled. “Jean is awake. His fever broke a few hours ago, and he’s been able to eat a little.”

“Have you told him we’re here?” Eren asked, the mix of elation, happiness, guilt, and nerves roiling in his empty stomach. 

“Not yet, but you can go see him now if you want.”

“Thank you, sir.” He ran down the hall, but then stopped short of the door. Part of him wanted to turn around, race back, and hide under his bed. But that was ridiculous. Whatever Jean might think of him now, he needed to hear Jean’s voice—it seemed like forever since he had. 

At first, Jean didn’t notice him when he stepped through the door, hesitating on the threshold. Jean was sitting up, a blanket drawn around his shoulders, his hands still propped up in front of him. He was looking vaguely in the direction of the window, and there was a sad, resigned set to his mouth. But then he turned and saw Eren, and a smile chased away the sadness for a moment. 

Eren ran again, to Jean’s side, and then froze, wanting to touch him, but afraid of causing further pain. 

“Were you with me last night?” Jean asked, sounding a little weak but otherwise it was his voice, the same as always. 

Eren nodded.

“I thought maybe I dreamed it.” Memory shadowed his face. “It was dark for so long.”

“Who did it?” Eren asked.

Jean’s voice was empty when he replied. “Konrad Haese, my old captain. The same one who hurt me before. He hates me. That’s why he…did this.”

Sick horror filled him at the thought of Jean trapped with that man again. But before he could say something, Jean continued—

“I’ll overcome it, Eren.” His face was white, expression determined as he looked up to meet Eren’s eyes. “I’ll learn to fight again—I can do it. I won’t leave you out there alone. I won’t forsake the Commander’s trust in me.”

“ _Jean_.” His voice broke, and he slid onto his knees. “It’s _my_ fault. No one—no one _blames_ you. I—I’m the one who left. I left you there. They said Titans had gotten through Wall Rose, and I chose to go. I didn’t come after you. I’m sorry, Jean. I’m sorry.” He was sobbing, shoulders shaking, his hands clenched in fists. 

He knew Jean was saying his name, but he couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t bear to look at Jean—his brave, fierce Jean.

“Eren, don’t be an idiot!” Jean finally barked, and Eren blinked at him, surprised. 

“If I could use my hands, I’d knock some sense into you,” Jean continued. “It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened. I’d have made the same decision in your place.”

“You…would?” 

“Yeah.” Jean grimaced. “It would kill me to do it, but yes. So I know how you must have felt, and I’m telling you not to feel guilty. At least—” He faltered and slid down the bed a bit, as though he wanted to disappear into the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m assuming that you feel the same way as…as me. That is—there happens to be…a great deal of _significance_ attached to you, in a way that is, well, maybe romantic, although I suppose that—”

Eren scrubbed his sleeve over his face and decided to interrupt Jean’s silly— _adorable, perfect, he feels the same way as I do_ —ramblings. “Can I kiss you?”

“—given that I can’t seem to—uh, um…” Jean stared at him, his mouth open, and then blushed, all the way to the tips of his ears. “Oh, er, yes.”

Very carefully, Eren knelt on the bed at Jean’s side. For a second, he laid his fingers on Jean’s bandaged hand and then leaned closer, framing Jean’s face with his hands. Jean waited, his expression so open and hopeful and trusting that Eren thought his heart might burst. He kissed Jean lightly the first time, drew away to gather his breath, and then tilted his head, fitting his mouth to Jean’s, drawing sweet, helpless noises out of him. 

Their kisses finally slowed and then ended when Jean kissed the tip of his nose and made him giggle. He ended up resting against Jean’s chest, feeling the muscles in Jean’s shoulders shifting each time Jean wanted to hold him and then remembered that his hands still hurt too much to move and had to remain still. 

“That was a really eloquent declaration you made before,” he said because it was better to tease Jean than start crying again.

“Shut up. And I’d like to see you do better. It’s not like you’ve said it either.”

He thought about what he had said to Armin the night before. He was still afraid, but if Jean was going to be so brave, if Jean could say it, then—“I love you.”

Silence. He craned his head up and licked the bottom of Jean’s chin. “Ugh, Eren, that tickles.” Jean laughed when he did it again. “Stop it.” 

“How was that? What I said, I mean?”

“It was very to the point.” He could hear the happy warmth behind Jean’s words, though.

“Maybe you’d like something more flowery? I could serenade you outside the barracks window. Or bring you actual flowers. Or write love poems and sing them to you.”

“If you dare, I will _end_ you.” 

“But I thought you said your feelings were _significant_ and _romantic_. Aren’t you going to bring flowers to me?”

“Stuff them down your throat maybe.” Jean rubbed his cheek along Eren’s hair. “Now tell me what happened. I can tell you had to transform again.”

“How?”

“Hmmm? Oh, there was a scrape on your hand, and it’s gone now. Plus I don’t think your nose is all back yet.”

“It _is_.” Eren felt at his nose and then gave Jean a dig in his ribs when he laughed. “Jerk. But yeah…” He sighed. “We found more Titan shifters and there were a few…problems.”

Jean was quiet for a while when he had finished telling him all that had occurred since they last saw each other. “So you were somehow able to command the Titans,” he said at last.

“Yes. I don’t know if I can do it again, though.”

“You will.” There was no doubt in Jean’s voice. “You’re too damn stubborn not to. But that Commander Erwin lost his arm—I can’t believe it. He’s as bad as you, though. There’s no way in hell it will stop him from going to Shiganshina . And this—my hands—it won’t stop me either.”

“Jean,” Eren began hesitantly, “maybe—”

“No. For fuck’s sake, you don’t get to tell me not to be reckless, Eren. I know it will take a while for my hands to heal, but this won’t stop me from helping fulfill our mission.”

“Okay.” He let it go for the moment. It was more important that Jean have a goal to work toward—they could worry later about how realistic it was. 

 

“Levi only gave me until the end of the week. Then I have to report back.” It was two days later, and Eren was helping Jean eat some bread, tearing off bite-size pieces and popping them into his mouth. Like a baby bird, as he made sure to tell Jean, who looked furious, but was too hungry to actually start a fight about it. “Do you think you might be able to travel by then? I don’t want to leave you behind again. Ever.”

Jean was still worn and tired, but he pulled up his shoulders and nodded. “I can make it.” 

The doctor didn’t want to give his approval, but finally acceded to Jean’s determination. He issued stern instructions that Jean was to rest his hands as much as possible lest the stitches break open and that the dressing should be changed often to avoid another infection. 

On the day they left, the worst part was getting Jean into the saddle. Once he was up there, panting and pale from the pain, Eren could hold onto him, an arm firmly around Jean’s middle, so he didn’t have to grab the pommel to avoid falling off. Armin carried the satchel of medicines and bandages. They got to within a few miles of the point where the Corps had encamped following the debacle with the Armored Titan when Sasha intercepted them. 

“Captain Levi wants us to stay in a more secure location,” she said and frowned at Jean. “I don’t think he was supposed to come.”

Eren tightened his hold on Jean and glared at her. 

“Right.” Sasha blinked. “Well, as long as he doesn’t eat too much.” 

Levi was indeed annoyed when he arrived at the small cabin and discovered Jean asleep in one of the bedrooms. Eren faced his disapproving stare. 

“People know that Jean is connected to us,” he pointed out. “If I had left him there in that hospital, basically unprotected, someone could have taken him again.”

“Possible,” Levi conceded. “But if there’s fighting, he’s going to be helpless with those injuries.” 

“I wouldn’t take him outside the Wall.”

“I’m not talking about fighting Titans.” Levi crossed his arms over his chest. “Someone is after you, Eren. And Krista is mixed up in all this somehow too. We’re safe here for the moment, but it’s only a matter of time before someone tries to get at you again.”

And then Hanji arrived with word that Minister Nick had been murdered, probably by the MPs. 

As usual, the problem was that they were in the dark about too much. All they had were scattered pieces of information, and they couldn’t make them fit together into a logical whole. It didn’t help that Eren couldn’t make his Titan form harden. He had seen Reiner do it, and Annie, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t make it work. He finally pushed it too hard and passed out, his last memory of Mikasa hacking him loose from his Titan form and screaming at him.

He woke up in bed, lying at Jean’s side. 

“Back with us?” Jean asked. Clumsily, he brushed Eren’s hair off his forehead with the side of his palm. His fingers still had to be bound, but he could move his hands a little bit more now. “You looked pretty gross for a while there once the steam cleared.”

“How long was I out?” Eren rubbed the sleep from his eyes and rolled a little closer to Jean.

“About a day.”

“Did it work?”

“No.”

“Fuck.” Eren let his head thump down on Jean’s chest with a sigh. 

“Levi thinks we won’t be able to stay here much longer, either. It was impossible to keep the signs of your transformations hidden, and it’s a good bet someone’s noticed.”

“If only we knew who was after us. Then we could go after _them_.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.” Jean paused, and Eren pushed up onto his elbow so he could see Jean’s face. “I think I know someone who might be able to tell us more about the interior MPs. He might even know why Krista is important to the Wallists.”

“Who?”

“Konrad Haese.”

“Haese?” Eren repeated, shocked.

“He’s as dirty as they come. And he made it sound like he knew who was interested in your powers.”

“But…but there’s no way he’d willingly tell us anything.”

Jean’s eyes were hard when he replied. “Who says he has to be willing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably two more chapters after this, although I've been wrong before.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I'll put a warning here that there is some more torture in this chapter, although this time Jean is not on the receiving end. In terms of severity, I would say it is comparable to what happens in canon.

Sometimes, as Jean sat in bed, waiting for his hands to heal, wondering if the numbness and sparking flares of pain would ever fade enough for him to use his remaining fingers, he thought about what it would be like to be a Titan. Not one like Eren, but like Connie’s mother, if they were correct, and Titans had really been humans once.

Was there a piece of you left, trapped in that hulking, ravenous body? Did you know what was happening? Did you want to stop, but couldn’t? An endless nightmare, Ymir had said.

When Jean brought up the idea of trying to extract some information from Haese, Levi and Hanji had agreed to it after some debate. Jean had been able to tell them the layout of the garrison headquarters, and all he knew of the man’s habits. Levi had left late yesterday afternoon, along with Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, and Hanji, to carry out the mission. Of course, Jean had stayed behind, and Eren and Connie had remained too.

It was morning now, and when he looked out the window the sight of sunshine warming the roofs of Trost met his eyes. A familiar sight, one that had greeted him every day of his life until he joined the military. They had abandoned the cabin—just in time to avoid whoever it was who wanted to capture Eren and probably Krista too—and returned to Trost. The city was crumbling—most of the damage from the Titan attack hadn’t been repaired, and many of the inhabitants hadn’t returned. He knew his parents were still here, and part of him wanted desperately to see them and the other half couldn’t stand the thought of his mother finding out about his hands. 

Eren shifted a little in the bed at his side, still fast asleep. Every night, he came to sleep here. They never said anything about it, but he was grateful. It helped, when he woke up in the darkness, to have Eren’s presence to remind him he wasn’t still locked away alone. 

Noises outside and the sound of voices. Connie’s, and Armin’s answering him. Footsteps going down the stairs into the cellar. So, they had been successful then. Haese had been captured.

He rose from the bed, his body moving almost of its own accord. He already had on a shirt, but the rest posed a problem. Eren had been helping him, but right now, he didn’t want to wake Eren or ask for his help. He was supposed to avoid moving his hands too much until the stumps had fully healed, then he could start strengthening his remaining fingers. But he gritted his teeth and managed to get into his pants. He left the jacket and gave up on the boots after a moment. So he was still in his socks when he walked up to Levi and said, “Let me interrogate him.” 

His voice sounded flat and strange. And even as he said the words, part of him remained curled up in the darkest corners of his mind, wanting to stop, terrified of what he was about to do, like the human soul trapped inside the body of a Titan. 

Levi finished unbuckling his gear before replying. “He’s not going to talk without some persuading.” He glanced down at Jean’s hands. “You can’t do it.”

Jean didn’t back down. “Strap a knife to my hand.” 

Levi regarded him in silence for a few moments. Then he sat down in a chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ask Eren to do it.”

Jean knew Levi was testing his resolve. There was a good chance Eren would not like the idea of torturing someone. There was an even better chance Eren would not like the idea of _Jean_ torturing someone. 

“Eren!” Jean called and repeated it until there was the sound of movement in the other room. 

Eren emerged, his hair in a wild tangle. “Jean—what is it? Did you catch Haese, Captain Levi?”

Levi nodded. 

“I’m going to be asking him some questions,” Jean said, and his voice still sounded odd. “I want you to tie a knife to my hand. My fingers are still too weak to hold one.”

Eren stilled and glanced between him and Levi. “You don’t have to see that man, Jean. Ever again.”

“I want to.”

Either the words or his tone of voice made Eren flinch. “Jean, you don’t have to. We can find another way to—”

“Get a knife, Eren.” He said it harshly, and Eren flinched again. “Please,” Jean added. “I need to be the one who does this. You should understand that at least.”

Eren shivered and a weird expression flickered across his face. “Oh,” he said, and then, “yes.” His voice sounded as flat as Jean’s now. The part of Jean that was hidden away cringed at the thought that maybe he had broken something between them by demanding this, but the rest of him didn’t move and didn’t speak while Eren got a knife and some twine. 

“Go and wait with the others,” Jean told him when it was done, the knife bound to his palm securely enough so that it wouldn’t move even if he stabbed it into something. 

Eren drew breath to speak, his eyes meeting Jean’s. Usually Eren was so open, every emotion stamped plain to see on his face, but this time, Jean couldn’t read him. And Eren didn’t end up saying anything, his chest deflating as he turned away and left them as Jean had asked.

Levi took him down to the cellar. “I’ll wait out here. Remember, getting the information is the most important thing.”

“I know.” 

Levi opened the door, and Jean stepped through into the dimly lit room. Haese was tied to a chair, just like Jean had been. For a second, the world swayed dizzily, and then it steadied, and he stepped forward.

A bruise darkened Haese’s jaw. His eyes widened briefly at the sight of Jean and then narrowed into a sneer. “So here you are, my little rat. Scuttling away to another hole like the vermin you are whenever I think I’ve put an end to you. Come to gloat when I’m tied up and can’t get to you?”

“I’m not here to gloat.” Jean raised his hand with the knife. “You told me that you knew of the people who want to capture Eren Jaeger. You’re going to tell me about them. You’re going to tell me everything you know, everything you guess about what’s happening inside these Walls.”

Haese paled, fear replacing the derision, and Jean felt a thick, dark satisfaction. 

“You’re useless, Jean,” Haese tried, returning to his bravado. “You can’t hurt me—not with your hands like that.”

Jean didn’t bother replying. Instead, he brought the knife tip up to Haese’s face and pressed it against his cheek. He tensed his arm muscles, forcing the metal in further and then slowly drew it down. Blood welled outward in its wake. 

“I can’t control it very well,” he said, stepping back and staring at the slash running down Haese’s face. “So I might take out your eye by accident. Or maybe I’ll just take it anyway. Maybe both of them.”

Haese’s expression wavered, but then he spat at Jean’s feet. “You don’t have the guts to pull something like that.”

So he dug the knife into Haese’s left ear, starting at the top and sawing down. It hurt his hand, the twine digging into the damaged nerves and joints, but it hurt Haese more, and he cried out, a shrill scream that made Jean’s stomach twist. Gulping a breath, he stepped away, leaving ragged flesh behind. 

“You have no fucking idea what I’m capable of,” he said and stabbed the knife down into Haese’s hand. 

Perhaps it was the pain or maybe it was because it was Jean, who Haese had twice thought dead, only to have him return, alive and unbroken, but the next time Jean raised the knife, Haese started babbling about the Interior MPs and the existence of an even more secret, deadlier squad who carried out the orders of the power behind the throne. Who that might be, Haese didn’t know. He insisted he didn’t, voice high with panic, but the current king was no more than a figurehead, controlled by his council. Captain Levi and Hanji appeared at some point, asking more pointed questions while Jean stood there, Haese’s words fuzzy in his ears, staring at the blood dripping down his face. 

He didn’t come back to himself until Levi took him by the shoulders and steered him out of the room. “We’ve got it from here, Jean.”

“What are you going to do with him?” he asked as Levi removed the twine holding the knife to his hand.

“What do you want us to do?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Levi cleaned off the knife on a piece of cloth. “He’s scum, that much is clear. If he got loose, he could bring the MPs down on our heads. And there’s what he did to you. I don’t have much pity for a man like that. I’m not going to risk your life—any of your lives—in the interest of saving his.”

If Haese was dead, he would never be able to hurt Jean—or anyone else—again. “I—” He swallowed, making himself say it. “I should do it. I can’t ask you to do this, sir.” 

Levi finished cleaning the knife and tucked it into his belt. “I am your captain. That shit in there doesn’t have any conception of what that means. Thanks to him, you probably don’t either. But it doesn’t change the fact that I am your captain, and I will do it. Not you. From what I’ve seen, you’ve done what you needed to do.”

Jean swallowed again, tears suddenly stinging his eyes. 

“Besides, where the fuck do you get the idea that you have the final word in this situation?” Levi scoffed. “There is a chain of command here, even if you kids often seem to forget that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now go back upstairs. And this is the last time I’m letting you risk exacerbating your injuries like this. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” 

Jean went upstairs and stumbled outside into the back alley behind the building, sitting down on the stairs. Eren found him there a while later, shaking and clutching his stomach, on the edge of throwing up or crying, he wasn’t sure which. 

Eren immediately pulled him into a hug, cradling Jean’s head against his chest. But it hovered between them—the sound of Haese’s scream, the satisfaction that had filled Jean at causing that man pain. He felt normal—well, relatively normal—again, not as though his body was moving without conscious thought, but the memory was there of what he had done. It was there in the raw marks from the twine still visible on his hand in between the bandages. 

“Are you disgusted with me now?” Jean asked, needing to know the answer, even if it was bad. 

Eren replied immediately. “No. No, of course not. That bastard—he deserved it all.” Soft kisses landed in his hair. “It was just…”

“What? Tell me.”

Eren’s chest rose in a sigh. “Ever since that day, when Wall Maria fell, I’ve had this… _hatred_ inside of me. For the things—for the people—who did it. And then I met you, and you weren’t thinking about killing or vengeance.”

“I was thinking about running and hiding,” Jean said dryly, not lifting his head, keeping his nose buried in the comfort of Eren’s scent.

“No, you were thinking about living. About _living_. There was this—this hope inside you that refused to just accept all the death and fighting. And I never, never wanted to see that go away. This morning when…when you asked for that knife…I was afraid it had. I was afraid you had become like me.”

Jean raised his head a little, enough so he could shift and put his arms around Eren too. “Idiot. You’re the one fighting for a world worth _living in_.” 

Eren sighed and rubbed his nose against Jean’s forehead. “Just…promise me you won’t ever change. Not even after what happened. That man—he’s—he’s gone now, and I couldn’t bear it if he had taken that away from you too.”

“I don’t really understand what you’re saying,” Jean admitted. “I was running away, whatever you might think. But I promise, if that’s what you want. And I certainly won’t let you get so caught up in thinking you’re the savior of humanity that you go dashing off and get yourself killed.”

Eren laughed, even though there was the edge of tears in it. 

Jean stayed pressed into his warmth for a moment longer and then made himself draw away. “Will you help me put my boots on? My feet are cold.”

“Yeah. Come on. Just don’t knee me in the face like you did yesterday.”

“It was an accident, I said.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know when you’re lying, Kirstein.”

 

Of course, by the end of the day, Jean was as furious with Eren as he had ever been. “You have got to be fucking joking,” he said, staring at Eren across the table. 

All of them were gathered there for a council of war based on the information they had gotten from Haese. Jean’s former captain was dumped in the river, buried under a heap of garbage, in a hole in the ground—Jean didn’t know, no one had told him, and he hadn’t asked, didn’t _care_ , the bastard was dead and gone and he wasn’t going to waste any more time thinking about him. And then Armin had come up with the idea of trying to lure out the Interior MPs, maybe even this secret First Squad, by pretending to let them capture Eren and Krista—no, Historia—and then following them back to whoever was in charge. Armin had said that obviously they shouldn’t allow the real Eren and Historia to do this but rather use decoys, like they had in Stohess. And Eren had put his foot down.

“I am never letting someone put themselves in danger by pretending to be me again,” he said. “Look what happened to Jean the last time. I’ll do it myself or we won’t do it at all.”

So yeah, Jean was pretty furious with him and for good reason. “You have got to be fucking joking. A thousand things could go wrong with Armin’s plan. If we actually let them get their hands on you, it could be disastrous, and you’ll probably end up dead.”

“I don’t think they would kill me,” Eren said calmly—calmly!—“I mean, they want my Titan power.”

“I’m not going to ask anyone to be a substitute for me, either,” Historia said, sounding just as stubborn. 

And ultimately, everyone had to agree to allow it because they didn’t have a better plan, and things were bad and likely to get worse, and they needed to _act_ and try to get one step ahead of their enemies. 

And Jean wasn’t going to be able to participate. He knew that, and so he accepted it without a fight when Levi said as much. 

“We need to find a safe place for you to stay until this is all over, though,” Armin put in. “Haese tried to get at Eren through you, and someone else might try the same. And since you know our plans, it could be bad if the MPs brought you in for questioning about anything.”

“Jean would never betray us,” Eren protested.

“It’s okay.” Jean sighed. “He’s right. And there’s a place nearby where I can hide out until all this is over, one way or another. You just better be careful, idiot,” he added, glaring at Eren. “You’re putting everything at risk you know.”

Eren scowled. “I can’t hide forever. I won’t.”

“This is your stupid savior complex all over again.”

“Yeah, well, if it saves someone else from getting hurt, I’m okay with that!”

“This is bigger than you and me and if—”

“Enough.” Levi cut across them. “If we want to get all the way to the person pulling the strings, decoys wouldn’t work for too long anyway. There’s no way to do this without some risk, but I think we have to take the chance.”

Jean subsided, but he made sure to give Eren a sharp elbow in the ribs later. 

 

 

But for some reason, although he could face the thought of letting himself be kidnapped with a brave face, the prospect of meeting Jean’s mother made Eren nervous. 

His parent’s home had been the only place nearby Jean could think of that would be safe for him to hide at. He didn’t like the idea of putting his mother and father in danger, but as long as he stayed inside and kept quiet, no one even needed to realize he was there. Eren and Levi were going with him, and by now Jean could recognize the stiff set of Eren’s shoulders and the way he kept wetting his dry lips as signs that Eren was nervous. 

“Hey, my mom isn’t a Titan, you know,” he said, nudging Eren’s shoulder. 

“I know that.” Eren hitched his cloak—a nondescript brown color—closer. “But she’s your mom.”

“Uh, yeah.” Jean shook his head. Sometimes he really didn’t get where Eren was coming from. “I’m not going to introduce you as my—my boyfriend or whatever, and it isn’t like you’re asking for my hand in marriage, so relax.”

Eren spluttered and blushed, and Levi told both of them to shut the hell up.

Actually, Jean was pretty nervous himself. He prayed that his mother wouldn’t make a scene, not in front of Captain Levi of all people. 

His heart did a funny little thump in his chest when he saw his childhood home, thankfully undamaged. His mother opened the door to his knock, and he was able to see it in her eyes when she recognized him, the joy and relief overflowing into tears. She clung to him, enfolding him in her arms, and he tried to comfort her while also nudging her inside so that Eren and Levi could enter and they could shut the door on any prying eyes. 

“Jean, Jean, my baby, my baby,” his mother sobbed.

“It’s all right, Mamma. Please don’t cry.”

Levi had the grace to turn his attention away, but Eren stared at them, his eyes wide.

His mother pulled apart enough to hold his face in her hands and pepper his forehead and cheeks with kisses. Then she discovered what had happened to his hands, and a fresh round of tears started, silent this time.

Jean put his arm around her shoulders. “It will be okay, Mamma. Once they heal, I’ll be all right. I promise. Just—please stop crying. The captain is here, and—and I want you to meet Eren.”

“Of course, of course.” She dabbed at her face with her apron, trying to get herself under control. “You’re alive. That’s what matters. I thought—oh, _Jean_. When your father gets home, he’ll be so happy. We’ve been so afraid.”

“I’d have come to visit sooner, only—only things happened. But—but, Mamma, this is Captain Levi. I’m in his squad now, in the Survey Corps.” 

“C-captain Levi?” she stuttered. “H-here? But he’s so sma—”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Kirstein,” Levi said, as Jean made frantic shushing motions at his mother with his hand. 

“I can’t believe—here in our home…” His mother turned, dazed, toward Eren. “And this boy?”

“This is Eren Jaeger. My friend.” Jean looked over at Eren and smiled. “My very good friend.”

“Your friend? Oh, Jean-bo, that’s lovely. Eren, I am so glad to meet you. And you, Captain Levi, sir, please, please come in.” She kept a hand on Jean’s arm, but motioned for everyone to move into the kitchen. “You’ve been taking care of my boy, haven’t you? You brought him back to me.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Eren muttered, blushing. “Jean has been the brave one.”

His mother fluttered a bit more at that and started smoothing down Jean’s hair and then picked up one of his hands, crying again. Jean sighed and steeled himself for a long afternoon.

His mother finally sat down at the table, pulling Jean onto the seat next to her, and Jean was treated to the incongruous sight of Captain Levi making tea in his kitchen. Jean explained a little of what was going on and that he needed to hide there for a while. His mother cried some more, drank a few sips of tea, and then insisted that she had to make Levi and Eren something to eat before they left, as a thank you for looking after her son. 

And all the time, Eren just kept staring and staring.

“What is it?” Jean finally asked him, when his mother had let go of him long enough to add some more potatoes to the pot of stew already simmering on the fire. 

“She hugged you,” Eren said. “Three times.”

“Look, she’s just excited and upset.” Jean rubbed his nose with the back of his wrist. “It’s not so weird.”

“I don’t think it’s weird.” Eren took a deep breath. “My mom used to do the same thing. And she tugged on my ears.”

Oh. Jean felt like a fool. Of course. Of course this would make Eren think of his own mother. 

Levi managed to politely decline Jean’s mother’s offer of supper, explaining that they had to get back to the rest of the squad. Even Jean’s mother backed down in the face of Humanity’s Strongest, although she did manage to press a slice of pie on him. 

“Two minutes,” Levi said to Eren and went out to wait in the hallway.

“Mamma,” Jean said. “Can you give me and Eren a moment alone?”

“Oh, of course, Jean, if that’s what you want. Eren, I’m so glad to have met you.” His mother smiled and then enveloped Eren in a hug. Eren flushed, a hesitant little smile making him look so much younger than usual. “I know Jean-bo can be difficult—”

“ _Mamma_.”

“—so I’m relieved to know he has someone like you.”

“I can be pretty difficult too,” Eren said, squirming, but looking bereft when Jean’s mother stood up and released him. 

“I’m sure that’s not true.” His mother looked between the two of them. “I can tell you’re a sweet boy, and I hope we can have a longer visit, the next time you come.”

Eren’s eyes followed her as she went out into the hallway, and Jean caught a glimpse of Levi’s awkward expression before the door closed. 

"I think you're sorrier about leaving my mother than leaving me,” Jean said.

“No! I’m just…a little jealous that you have her, I guess.” Eren hunched his shoulders, glaring at the table. 

“I know; I was teasing you. And she’ll love having another person to cook for and scold and spoil.” 

“I’d like that,” Eren said, relaxing and smiling a little. But then his smile faded. “I know I promised that I would never leave you behind again, and now here I am, doing it.” 

“No, you’re not leaving me. I’m staying. There’s a difference.”

“I guess.” 

“And you’ll come back.”

Eren nodded.

“Say it,” Jean demanded. His chest was tight because no matter what he said, he didn’t want Eren to go, he didn’t want to stay and wait and wonder. 

“I’ll come back,” Eren said. 

“And I’ll get better so that next time I can go with you.”

“Yeah.” Eren’s voice was soft and gentle, which meant Eren didn’t believe that would ever happen. It made Jean angry, but he kept it back because there wasn’t time for an argument now. 

Levi’s voice, calling out for Eren to hurry up, jolted them upright. Eren wrapped his arms around Jean for a moment, and Jean squeezed back as much as he could. A quick, clumsy kiss, and then Eren was gone, and the front door had closed behind him and the captain. Slowly, Jean sat back down. 

His mother bustled in, and Jean mustered a smile for her. It probably didn’t fool her, for she smoothed his hair off his forehead, her eyes sympathetic. Then she turned to the stove, chattering about how she was going to seize the opportunity to fatten him up a little, the words filling the silence and sparing him the necessity of replying.

 

Jean was struggling to master holding a pen and writing legibly on the day his mother brought the word that Commander Erwin had been arrested and the Survey Corps was disbanded, its remaining members wanted for questioning over several murders. 

This meant their plan hadn’t worked. Something had gone wrong, badly wrong.

“Was there any news about Eren?” Jean choked out, heart thudding in his throat.

His mother shook her head. That could be good or very bad. If only he had some way of contacting them—some way of knowing what was going on. 

“What are they going to do to the Commander?”

“He’ll be tried.” His mother paused. “And executed if found guilty.”

Jean wasn’t aware he had stood up and started for the door until his mother put her hand on his chest, halting him. “The Commander saved me, Mamma. I can’t just leave him there.”

“Oh, Jean.” Her eyes were filled with tears, but she smiled. “I’m so proud of you for wanting to help. But you can’t take on the Military Police by yourself. You must see that.”

“But—but this can’t happen! And Eren—if he—if he—”

“I know. I know it’s hard. Come here, Jean-bo. Sit down and let me rub this salve into your hands. It will help them heal. And things will be all right. You’ll see. We just have to wait.”

There was nothing else he could do. 

One day he was able to take the bandages off his hands, and he tried to ignore the awful scars and concentrate on learning to use his remaining fingers as best he could, strengthening them and strengthening his grip. Sometimes he thought about what he had done to Haese and tried to sort through the complicated mix of emotions that awoke. He thought a lot about Eren. And every day he asked his mother to go to the market and search out every scrap of news she could. 

When the word finally arrived, it spread like fire. A girl named Historia Reiss had revealed herself as the true queen, saving the people from a massive Titan. The Survey Corps had been vindicated. Erwin had been released. Once again, Erwin was saying that with Eren’s power, they could retake Wall Maria.

Jean grinned like a maniac for at least fifteen minutes when his mother burst through the door and gasped out the story, shouted and pumped his arm in the air a few times, and then finally dropped down into a chair, smiling up at his mother. 

She laughed and sat down next to him. 

“Eren will be back soon,” he said. “It feels like…a new beginning.”

“Yes.” She reached out and picked up one of his hands, holding it in between her own. “But, Jean-bo…”

“I know.” His throat squeezed tight around the words. “I can’t use the maneuvering gear yet. Maybe…maybe never again.”

“You’ve done enough—”

He shook his head. “No. Eren—the others—they still need help. I swore that I would dedicate myself to their cause. I can’t let this stop me.”

Surely, there must be a purpose for him still. Had he found something worth giving his life for, only to have it all to come to nothing in the end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, we're almost there--one more chapter to go to wrap things up! I really can't believe this fic got so long. Many thanks to all of you who have stuck with me through it and left kudos and comments. I probably would have crashed and burned a few chapters ago without your encouragement. I'm in the midst of writing my dissertation and have not been able to devote the attention to this fic that it deserved, so I'm sorry if it has seemed scattered or rushed at times because I've certainly felt scattered writing it. But I've also enjoyed indulging my love of h/c and Jean!


	12. Chapter 12

**Two Months Later**

Jean knocked the heel of his boot against one of the crates he was supposed to be carrying and looked down at Eren, who was sitting on top of another one. 

“Historia will be annoyed with us when she realizes we’re just standing around,” Armin said, but he made no move to pick up a crate either.

Historia was currently chasing two small boys around the field. “I think she’ll be busy for a while,” Jean said and nudged Eren to the side so he could sit down too. 

He had arrived at the orphanage with Eren a week ago. In the two months since Rod Reiss had been killed, and Historia had taken the throne, Jean had remained with his parents in Trost. Eren occasionally stopped in for quick visits. As Jean had promised, his mother had taken great delight in spoiling Eren.

Jean’s hands had healed, and he was getting better and better at operating with only a few fingers. He couldn’t stand being out of things anymore, especially since the Survey Corps was preparing to set out for Wall Maria again, and so he came back with Eren this last time, when Eren returned after helping set up the new anti-Titan weapon at the Wall. 

“A lot has changed,” Armin said. “For the first time, we’re going to seize the initiative.”

“Yes.” Eren took a deep breath. “It’s time to go back to Shiganshina.”

Armin glanced at them. “I’ll let you two talk alone for a bit, okay?”

“Because you want to get out of moving this stuff,” Eren called after him as he walked away. Armin smiled and waved over his shoulder. Eren huffed and settled against Jean’s shoulder. 

“How do you feel about going back?” Jean asked him after a moment.

Eren considered the question, fiddling with the buttons on the cuff of Jean’s jacket. “It will be…difficult, to see it again. My home. But I’m determined too. I want to finish this.”

Jean nodded, steeling himself. “You know I won’t be coming with you, right?”

“I know.” Eren found his hand and squeezed it. “That’s difficult too. But I know it’s not possible.”

Jean had finally admitted to himself one bitter night that he would never be able to use the maneuvering gear again. “The Commander is going, but…”

“He’s the Commander.”

“Yeah.”

Jean’s breath ruffled Eren’s dark hair as Eren leant closer. “Speaking of Erwin, I need to go see him,” Jean continued. “I’m sure there must be something I can do here. I hope so, anyway.”

“There will be. There’s a lot more to you than your vertical maneuvering skills, remember?”

Jean smiled and slipped his arm around Eren’s shoulders. “I remember.”

 

When Jean did go speak with Erwin, they stood in silence for a while, Erwin looking at his hands, and Jean taking in the Commander’s empty sleeve. 

“I don’t regret it, sir,” Jean said at last. “I don’t regret joining the Corps.”

Erwin inclined his head. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

“You gave me another chance, Commander. A chance to see that my life was worth something. I hope that I have repaid your belief in me, sir, at least a little.”

“You have, Jean.” Erwin paused. “And now I’m going to ask more of you.”

“Sir?” Jean straightened, his pulse quickening.

“Levi, Hanji, myself—all of us are going on this mission. But as we have seen, dangers don’t exist solely outside the Walls. It took a great deal to achieve what we have in the past few months. We can’t allow things inside the Walls to spiral out of control again. We can’t lose what we fought so hard to win.” Erwin drew closer and put his hand on Jean’s shoulder. “I would like you to take my place on the Council while I am gone. Be the voice of the Survey Corps and give Historia whatever help she may need.”

Jean gaped at him. “Me? But I’m just a soldier. I don’t hold any rank—I’m not even a lieutenant.”

“No,” Erwin allowed. “But that’s all any of us are—just soldiers. Rank does not grant wisdom.” He smiled and stepped back. “I know Levi has a high opinion of you, and so do Eren and Armin. And even more than that, I trust you myself.”

Jean saluted. “Then I will do it, sir.”

 

 

“Commander Erwin’s representative on the Council?” Eren’s eyes were wide. “But you’re not even that smart.”

Jean was about to get angry when he saw the mischief in Eren’s expression and realized he was teasing. He cuffed Eren on the head. “I’m smarter than you at least.”

“I think you’ll do a good job,” Eren said, seriously this time. They were sitting on Eren’s bunk in the barracks, and Eren drew up his knees, propping his chin on them. “It’ll be good for Historia to have a friend here too. Be nice to her.”

“Of course I’ll be nice.”

“And try to be, you know, polite to the other Council members. You kind of blurt out whatever you’re thinking a lot.”

Jean bristled. “I can be tactful. It’s just that nothing gets through your thick skull unless I shout it at you.”

Eren tackled him into the blankets for that and succeeded in pinning Jean down, hands on his shoulders. Jean stopped fighting him in favor of studying Eren’s face, willing himself to remember it clearly, to remember it _always_. 

“Hey, don’t think like that,” Eren said softly and kissed him. In Trost, they had needed to be quiet because of Jean’s parents, and here anyone could walk in on them at any second. But Jean couldn’t make himself stop, couldn’t help the noises he made, couldn’t help thinking _this isn’t enough—this could never be enough._

 

But it wasn’t until Eren was getting on his horse, preparing to ride off with the rest of the Corps, that Jean finally found the courage to ask the question that had been lurking in the back of his mind.

“Hey, Eren?”

Eren looked tired, and Jean could see the fear and sorrow he was trying to hide behind a brave face. “Yeah?”

“When…when it’s done…you won’t just go riding out there, will you? I know you’ve always wanted to see what’s Outside—to see the whole world—but…but you won’t—”

“Silly—of course I’ll come back for you first.” Eren leaned down and mussed up his hair, grinning at Jean’s annoyed expression.

Jean ducked away, but then moved closer again once Eren had his hands safely back on the reins. “We’ll see it together, then?”

“Together,” Eren promised, lifting his eyes to the Walls, and further to the vast unknown. 

Once, not so long ago, Jean had turned away from that sight, seeking an illusionary safety. But now he looked out unafraid and let himself imagine what might lie beyond the far horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you to all my readers and everyone who left comments and kudos. You all are the best!


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